when the good work of naming each animal was finished,
after it was good and garden work turned
murderous toil in the fields, naming continued
centuries of generations naming the stars, finding gods
whole pantheons on which to depend, seers
telling stories, forceful patterns writ large
across the darkened sky; powers that be, fate and such
inevitable forces borrowing human terror to cover
naked lies. names like mars and mammon, babylon
ba’al and manifest destiny; facing defeat who escapes
powers that grasp the good to wring out evil, bodies
given to mark the seasons, down to the day
of their own destruction in the melting elements
whose story will we tell?
power over death, over stinging terror, is Human
possibility, small and gentle, Baby wrapped in body and story
easily overlooked; meekness speaking bold authority
the Son of Man and then the Body: constellations of people
appearing, turning, dying, rising; vast numbers, ever growing
vapors rising in one prayer to Creator, together
they dwell, they rule, they choose what is better
Truth, it cannot be taken from them; they tell
the great dragon’s story, the fiery fate for which it sacrificed
everything; they tell the heavenly bodies wisdom and such
timeless mysteries named in flesh and bone, fit to defeat
every remnant of evil; they know the proper name of the sun
the stars and moon, they know their own name; the Good Name
spoken until there is nothing left again but good work
©2025 Jacqueline Tisthammer. All rights reserved.
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