The Wiccans dig my poems.
Unitarians like them too.
Sister Jean Louise would not approve.
The Lutheran Atheist this boy has become,
this hell-bound heathen heretic
will surely burn.
And I surely will burn
and rot and dissolve
and blow away with the leaves and husks.
All that will remain is the stain of my essence in the dust.
When you see a tender green shoot emerge from that stain
I will be there with you.
In the stinging nettles and sweet potato vines,
in the wet rustling ferns,
in the moonlit sheen on the lilypads.
I burn for this.
I burn for my family.
I burn for justice.
I burn for peace.
I burn for a pot of soup and a loaf of bread.
I burn for a warm place to sleep.
I burn for the right to vote.
I burn for the rule of just and fair laws.
I burn for liberty, equality, for brotherhood and sisterhood.
Sister Jean Louise,
Sister Lillian,
Sister Mary Lou,
Sister Elwyn,
and Sister Anna Rose,
if it pains you to know I will burn,
I know it will give you joy when I also burn for you.
Come burn with me in lovingkindness for all creatures.
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