Search for a sign

in the soil of the plot

of land behind your flat,

lift your chest to better sense

the vibration of the leaves

droning like bees

and the motion of a feather

spearing the sky

then caressing it in the next pass—

time your breaths!

they’ll swing in up, down, to 

the track your eyes take

through the labyrinth of whorls

on your index finger

 

ha! a signal—

from God or Satan

or the archangel Michael—

does it matter? What matters is

the needle of searing heat

through your left eye

and how it blossoms,

yes! a parallel, or an intersection

(either one, or neither?)

an apple branch in bloom

wielded like a sabre

on a dark-barked tree

 

It calls to its sister,

to the sharp weapon in

whatever part of your brain

was asleep but listening

electric current awake,

you’ve been gifted

with the hot coal under

your tongue—Moses!

with the trembling

lyre strings—David!

exclaim your name,

exclaim Your Name

exalt Your Name,

O, sign-seeker

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