Hosanna

Textile Art by Elina Lusis-Grinberga


Hosanna

Many spend their lives prostrate
praising their prophet of choice,
or those politicians who straddle
our civilization like towering statues,
like stone-faced colossus’ wearing
our blessings to gird their loins.

Others merely praise the first
foul breath of consciousness
shifting from dream to cityscape,
pleased to greet the grind
of the gray hours
awaiting them trussed in
their harness, their yoke, their chains—
finding joy in coffee, in the blues
that a slide guitar vibe
can burst from eight speakers
inside the beer can transport
they pilot perilously through
the melee of the morning.

I praise the end of servitude,
the frayed colorful yarn knots
on the tail of the rope of indenture,
soon to be seven day weekends,
ten sweet hours of sleep,
soon to fill my days
with writing, reading, watching, walking
and smiling;
soon to refill
the dangerously low levels
of love and creativity within
the vessel of my Self.

Glenn Buttkus April 2010