Coal

by me

I had a dream last night

I saw an eagle. The eagle 

looked to me and said “Speak.”

In that moment, I opened my

mouth and said no words because

I knew no words. Signs became

symbols and language became noise.

Like Isaiah I was offered a coal 

to touch my lips, yet as my lips

touched the coal, I felt my body

burn and become fire. Searing heat

knows no equal. I became ash.

I became dust. I became wax

on a candle and a lit flame.

I became meaningless and I became vanity.

I became a mighty emperor

with legions of followers. I felt

wealth and I felt their poverty.

I felt the people’s despise,

yet in being despicable I demanded 

their praise and their taxes.

I heard of their famine,

but their loss did not affect 

my constant, unwieldy accumulation.

Their loss became my gain

and they turned to God kings,

dying to the earth and living in 

Spirit, because they were 

already dying on this earth

while I was consuming their death.

I saw a mother and child abandoned

in the cold and my only thought

was what I could do with 

the space offered by their removal.

Pride could hold no light to me.

Greed considered me the monster under the bed.

Laborers were slaves and slaves were mules

and mules were daily on the table before me.

I slaughtered and I knew no end,

because the empire had no end

it just took on new names.

After my dust became dust

power still existed to plot

and to burn and to consume.

And I saw the eagle once more,

and I saw the destruction of

our future. And I laid down to weep.