my eyes have seen the glory

who am i to say the sky

should be blue or the sky

should be gray. i have

watched it burning and

i’ve seen it weeping.

never should the day be

more abundant than the

night. there is no contrast

in the beauty of spring

giving birth, or the slow

dying of autumn. it is an

acapella hymn of the

seasons. i’ve given up

waiting for my water to

turn to wine, and my

bread to turn to flesh. i

have heard the words of

forgiveness mumbled by

crippled tongues of snakes.

i’ve watched the migration

of love to hate then back

again. i found war inside

my solitude and darkness

hiding in the corners of

wisdom. i’ve fed hungry

ghosts and pessimistic

angels. i’ve watched the

paradox of being wrong

being greater than being

right. i am an obedient

bum of the wild. i accept

the punishment for the

crimes of my blind bohemian


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