Midnight Pillars - Laughing Ravens
by Brett Seemann

High crucifix loom atop pillars
of electric light and carpenter's craft,
in the sky over Midnight Basilica;
presiding over silence so absolute
that passers-by are forced to duck
at the sound of ravens' wings
200 feet overhead.

Our Martyr Christ watches over his sleeping flock,
brazen brass eyes condensing tears
in the 500 watt halo of his children's worship.

And the ravens tumble and lift
in a rhythmic anapest-
sink, sink, heave,
carry the horns of charging bulls,
lost dawn and dusk,
upon your back.

Four o'clock in the morning
finds homeless men sleeping
not in vestments
but curled in a field
of night blooming orchids
and sweet grass.

Behind heavy bolted doors
the pews swell with stain glass shadows
and the altar resonates with idiots,
light and dark,
laughing out a patchwork of silence.

Piety here is best left for the hours of nine to five.

No other choice, at dawn,
confess yourself to the river
and the constant
whisk whisk
of the pussy willows
and the nuns with halos
of sweet grass
and whiskey on their breath.

Sing the hymns of the ravens
sink, sink, heave,
sink, sink, heave.

Prince George, BC -- April 22-28/2001