Prisoner

Nothing can stop
the meeting
of angels.
Then fly on
through prison doors
To make homes in the heart
of our prisoner’s soul.
Prisoners- we have committed the crime
of silencing what you have said.
Our prisoner speaks
in the darkness of night,
among the bad dreams,
or memories of crime.
He speaks of innocence
like only the guilty can.
And, still, we listen
and we understand.
Though we are bound
to the seat of the soldiers
The prisoner stands like stone,
before the window.
Where a little light has entered,
To taunt the darkness of our eyes.
But we can see
the prisoner speak.
Angels ascending from the stone,
With the faces of children
who have gone.
With the faces of children
who have gone.
But the prisoner remembers them.
More than we.
Angels from heaven
or angels from hell,
bringing news,
And news, may be good
and terribly sad.
He knows the angels,
And sings to them
if they ask.
And angels meet
in the strains of his voice.
Nothing stops the meeting
of angels.

8th August 2009