by Rev. Dr. Daniel C. Wilburn
Flee! Flee! Flee! 60 miles per hour the dove flies and escapes the fowler’s snare protect me from myself you O One, true One, are ahead of me O Love, O Lover of me and Knower, Soul Searcher Heart Searcher who knew me before I was formed you have a plan for me that no superstition can conquer. What judge can assess me? None. No one knows my darkness my sin goes before me like an advance team, scouting out opportunity. I am undone; demised tortured Perhaps the birds are demons, possessed, corrupted. They call and sing burdened and frenetic and panicked they are full of scarcity and fright they are worthless yet yet yet yet you know each is worth more to you than gold Not one falls that you are not mindful of it Whom shall I fear then? Death comes knocking – Parades! And I run out into the street to see what is the commotion. “Look, it is DEATH! Be very afraid! Don’t trust g-d for the One is away, and the One is uncaring! Flee!” But this is not like a bird. A bird trusts you O One for its next seed and bug, and bath and song the birds sing to the sunrise and welcome the morning illumination All demons flee at the light. the dawn kills fear. For you O One are Light. May we flee, flee, flee to you. Doves fly at 60 miles per hour.
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