When I was young and empty
I did not know I was under-utilised under
pressure under fed every thing went into my mind
undigested and unprotected my mother like
a mother to her chicks
I thought her very words were food I
hung off them like a baby eagle
hanging in the eerie by a thread
of muscle and fibre and bone
I aired my differences
to the max.
When I was young and empty
They poured Christ into my wound
and I could never heal after that
like a thirsty man in the desert
I was always restless
When the teacher
would focus on me I was always the one starring out the window
up the track up that dry and dusty road up there
where the drops of water turned cartwheels of miracles
over and over as the light split them into
an infinity of mind as they fell slow motion into
the air.
And I became a vessel sailing on that air the way
an eagle sails the way
I could not ever sit still the way
I fell tumbling from the nest the way
he said I am
the way.