Gently they stir, gently rise.

The dead are newborn awakening

with ravaged limbs and wet souls.

Gently they sigh in rapt funeral amazement.

Who called these dead to dance?

Was it the young woman learning to play the ghost song on her baby grand?

Was it the wilderness children? Was it the ghost god himself,

stuttering, cheering, chatting blindly?

"I called you up to anoint the earth.

I called you to announce sadness falling like burned skin.

I called you to wish you well,

to glory in self like a new monster,

and now I call on you to pray."


The Voice 


 The Vision

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Judgment pages created: December 25,1999; last updated: March 2003.