Prayer Song for the Living

This song for the living starts in the press
Of jackets and flesh
The steam, of hot breath rising
As in dreams
And of the living it sings.

In the celebrant sunrise crowd,
I heard a voice,
A small voice,
Begging that we look around
Until a child is found.

Two minutes until the word spread
End to end
Ear to mouth and eyes all bent
And finally the child sent
On the endless, cheering wind.

And as the great man took his due,
A small wind again blew, and
Parted better than divinity
This curtain of humanity
To let the paramedics through.

The wind rises, cries, a cheer
To see the great man near,
Above the crowd a squirrel leaps
Snatches a twig and keeps aright
And the crowd cheers that too.

This prayer song grows wild and loud
Now
It chants, beats its heart unbowed.
This is our world now,
We celebrants of the sunrise crowd—
We are the sunrise now.