Wake Up

There is a new world being born.
I will be a midwife
and one of millions.
A holy obstetrician,
birthing this screaming dripping bloody child,
ripped from the body of christ on the cross.
From his dead polluted swollen belly
the cord will be cut.
The child hermaphrodite,
our new king and queen,
will speak the first word
and churches will collapse,
synagogues will crumble,
mosques will be washed away.
Trees will mark the new boundaries.
Words, like birds, will be freed from their cages.
All eyes will open on the infinite.

God is dead!
They found him slumped over
on his throne in the sky,
beer in one hand,
channel changer in the other.
God is reborn!
They found him under a cabbage leaf,
giggling naked, playing with his toes.

Let go!
Let go!
Let go of the burning bridges!
Let go of the barbed wire fences!
Put away the road maps!
Get rid of all your clothes!
There are so many worlds,
so many worlds,
and any of them can be ours!

Wake up!
Dig the lillies of the field!
Eat that apple!
Open your eyes!
In the new world
everyone gets a star on their belly,
the sun makes love to the moon
and the tiger catches it's tail.

Wake up!
Wake up!
Wake up!
There is a new world being born.

David W. Aronson
November 2001