the doors
newborn awakening
Gently they stir, gently rise The dead are newborn awakening  With ravaged limbs and wet souls  Gently they sigh in rapt funeral amazement  Who called these dead to dance?  Was it the young woman learning to play the ghost song on her baby grand?  Was it the wilderness children?  Was it the ghost god himself, stuttering, cheering, chatting blindly?  I called you up to anoint the earth  I called you to announce sadness falling like burned skin  I called you to wish you well  To glory in self like a new monster  And now I call you to pray.