Gethsemane
Gazing down through the licentious brachiation
the long climb down past~40 days, years, who knows the hour or the day
A voice, prehensile thought, Glancing up at the beckoning stars, then down to the stony ground.
Out on the plain thunder stirs.
Lightning leaps from cloud to ground.
What rough beast Straightens, reaches, stretches for the cross- piece; hesitates
A threnody in the wind,Troy burning, Oedipus bleeding
The wind pivots
A dityrambic murmur, Bacchus, bread, a swirl of skirts.
Hands balancing, Toes clinging, Then, the leap down.
It is often said that before you die your life passes before your eyes. It is in fact true. It's called living. -Terry Pratchett
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