Noel
Cobb
The
Mazdaen Earth Angel
At
night Rodin's lovers leave their marble forms
For Plato's worlds beyond the sky.
But, in the day great joy fills the lover's body.
Everything
longs for perfection, even summer, even
Socrates' wife. The Stradivarius longs to release
Bach from the airy frame of its grasshopper body.
God knows
why men manufacture violence.
Mothers cry when their babies die, playing with landmines.
But hatred sells, compressed into a metal body.
It was
in Ur that the Mazdaen Earth Angel
First spoke to Adam. Now She washes
Radioactive dust from the shepherd's dead body.
Will
we soon be able to live without water?
Will a new species evolve where the heart will beat
Without blood coursing through the body?
For years,
Rumi, distraught, cried to see God again,
Knocking on doors from Konya to Kurdistan.
Until, spinning, Rumi was Shams and one with Love's Body.
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