It feels like we’re just quoting Dylan,
repeating his words, though unaware.
Even God Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth,
sang the world as we know it
into existence with a single verse
of his favorite song,
and right from the first
the world was tangled up in blue.
The blue of the water
and the blue of the sky,
the purest cerulean of the virgin’s robe
and the irises of my children’s eyes.
repeating his words, though unaware.
Even God Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth,
sang the world as we know it
into existence with a single verse
of his favorite song,
and right from the first
the world was tangled up in blue.
The blue of the water
and the blue of the sky,
the purest cerulean of the virgin’s robe
and the irises of my children’s eyes.
He sang a web of words and jangled rhymes,
divine rhythms and disjointed lines
voiced into the expanse of formless space;
a song sung over the welter and waste.
Creation ex nihilo on a six-string guitar
and blown through a silver harmonica.
Blown by the Spirit out over the water
blown by the Spirit out over the land
and the Son of God, that son of man
was blown by the Spirit into listening men.
divine rhythms and disjointed lines
voiced into the expanse of formless space;
a song sung over the welter and waste.
Creation ex nihilo on a six-string guitar
and blown through a silver harmonica.
Blown by the Spirit out over the water
blown by the Spirit out over the land
and the Son of God, that son of man
was blown by the Spirit into listening men.
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