God fell to earth.

We had never imagined
The weight of our bodies
Pressed easily as butterflies
In their syrups, in
The dank earth of birth.

I believed in eyes above that
Wait for plucking fingers
To make of them a fan
And to possess it, impossibly:
I'd be forever before
Fluttering choice,
Wondering who to become.

We gazed only skywards and
Found abstract shapes, anonymous saviours,
That would surely declare themselves
At the hour of need.

But there the eyes above did merge
By heaven's stirring
-the ripe smell of swollen earth
Risen up about me-
And did become one God,
The God I knew, of lies that hide
The clumsiness of loving.

It is revealed, now, in the
Glorious mudbath lapping at
The wings of my youth.
I have named the saviour
Made from clay to fill the
Haze of a dead god.

What weight must be heaped upon
A lover's soft body!
Remember the child,
How her fan became dust
And fell, full of heart,
Into shifting sands.