The Clown Kachina
The Clown Kachina
If you are hungry then I
can Feed you love, but my
blood, or sex, or the
shell and stripes I wear,
will all leave you
nowhere.
If you are thirsty then I
will pour spirit into your
home, but I am not the
body that is bread, nor
the Savior's cup flowing
into eternity.
I am only the
skeleton on the mesa,
the clown kachina,
the voice of
headless John
calling from your plate:
"...that that decreased
I spoke of is true,
and our hunger
and thirst are
for Him."
October 1990
[click title for source]
3 comments:
Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star...
--from Joni Mitchell's Circle Game
This poem hits the nail on the nose, as usual, Miss Puddle.
If you're not already, you ought to be crowned Deaniackery's Poet Lauriot.
You also know how to pick 'em! Thought this one was a llittle Catholic for a Quaker. Very nice, though.
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