sunrise in a small city

not sleeping poolside moonfilled night
edge of vale over two towering oaks
3 bright stars tetrahedron
turtle climbing up stardust mountains
goose migrating to ceiling of sky
porpoise diving opposite direction toward last sunset
over the hill past the vale under the towering oaks
i wished them to each and every
fire and burn dark red orange from pale blue grey
not sleeping they set into the right towering oak out of sight
no matter which
one was here one was made to come here one came here
tetrahedron dark red orange so many shifting shapes
-all prepositions- peace love understanding

how do you walk your mind racing on the beach north northeast
on the assateague island toward a huge eye of clouds reaching east
ready to sort the spinning earth rising sun
into a magnificent of ocean surface red orange pink light

how do you sit your ego pounding on firm wet sand toward the ball of fire
sending a beam strait from horizon across ocean on sand up thru your chest
shudder
sob

how do you walk back south southwest
watching jewels bejeweled just only now with red sun and pink orange sea
unbleached wet sand with black underneath for here now only jewels
spinning joyously toward your sun

and the southern ocean horizon rising like a wall up the sky
the whole ocean expanding

the planet you know
will not be here for your grandchildren save what we can
it is passed time to stop killing beautiful place

when i give you my word
you may keep it
close to your heart
use it

so briefly incarcerated but joyous
i am this place 
celebrating pain
it is right to bear it 
in every vein and cell
beautiful planet

we stood arms bent and locked.
you beat us apart with weapons.
now our arms are free and joyous
you beat your own chains 
into fragile iron to burn and smolder

jesus would be walking
names from other places
madison 
minneapolis 
saint paul
brainerd 
might rattle in their ears
as they walk for their stolen sister 
yes there was the sister
and so many more in between  
lovely earth
herds like statue 
herds like shellshocked soldiers standing in blasted fields
toward the many waters
left from the ice and
blood in the fodder
blood in the bovine breast milk
blood on the dusty snowmobile in the cluttered garage 
blood in the clay pigeons
blood served at the fire station summer picnic
blood in the baked pastries in the basements of their would be houses
might bring their godhead back to planet earth
they would turn around
float with jim down the mighty river
leaving out of the delta with the speed of their holy spirit 
somebody thought they saw them walking
saw them in the current
somebody thinks their sacraments mean something here
winds of red winged black birds
waters of sturgeon and pike.
but jesus never walked here
you fucking farming fools 
my fathers and mothers
land back