Rainbird
The prophet sang in the desert
under a frozen star.
It split like a ripened egg
and the rain bled through space.
The sands white as bone in the sunís eye
the sands under his dark wings
grew rich with the rain and the blood
from his blood-coloured eye.
A thousand-year blooming of cactus
flesh-lantern, each petal a moon
ignited a garden.
A place green as drowning.
We who had been dry so long
we were bankrupt of tears
we opened our mouths to the stormís great beak
its generous sorrow.In the morning was only
my old friend the crow.
I gave him what I could
a few stripes of shade
the welcoming snicker of bone.
