Beneath the Augured Sun

I watch his fingers grow
grains and sand, wildflowers
He holds the morning sun.
He smells so sweet like heaven

He walks me on the road
bare feet on the silver
pieces of broken cents,
battered bone and leather

he sings to me a night
of caves in cotton skin
where fettered men broke free
from law and guilt and sin

they changed him for the silver
they crowned him king of kings
with thorns torn from wildflowers
leather whips on his skin.

he gives me grain and sandals
he draws his name in sand
I smell the fresh wildflowers
upon his broken hands

Parsley, sage, rosemary and rhyme
Roses are red and the violets are mine
Innocence lies where the wind and the willows entwine

Copyright Dawn Fung
Completed April 2007