Healing Liquid Does not Flow across the Holy Grail

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Okechobee

The water’s flow across the swamp and lake

Is imperceptible to us as to

The alligator, egret and the snake.

The native tribes could twirl and dance and shake

Their beads with white-winged birds of whitest flight

Who shake the water with their flaps.  The gods

Of alligators, reptiles, fangs that bite,

And herons natives sang in tribal Lauds.

Before the Christians came as pale-skinned men

With pistol, sword and cannon, waters flowed

In nature, vast, whites killing brown ones then,

While passing on white plagues with Latin code.

  The alligators were not offered grace

    Because this Christ preferred the whiter race.

© Phillip Whidden