16. Holy Holy
Holy, the tree, cradle
of birds, demarcation of
the edge of sky.
Holy, the squirrel, bundle
of fluff, attitude, limbs
and limber, eyes agape.
Holy, the dove, its
own weight, wings, body
solid holy, not ghost
holy. Holy, Holy, Holy,
Lord God Almighty,
Almighty, alrighty, great big
Holy trinity, but not
more holy than the
tree. Does that distant
Daddy God have roots
to hold the earth
in place? Sap to
Rise singing in spring?
No old man controls
the curtains the winds
do part. The tides
that slide under even
these plains. The coyote
outsmarting the hunter. The
man whose time has
come, beating the clock.
Really, I adore this