We’re raising the spirits

Poem on religion

We're raising the spirits
Lifting the dead
Splitting the veil
Out of the tomb
Spoiling the flesh
Folding the cloth
Rolling the rock
Grazing the flock
On a fatted calf
Above a bronzed Baal
Towered in tongues
Of many colors
Cast in the pit
Of mighty oaks
Wrapped in her arms
The silent sea
Breathes in white wind
blown black
In the shrouds
Of her rolling
Sheets

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