e p i p h a n y

i would rather stay here in my own rage
shrunk by small needs and pickled by unfit desires
not ready for the fire cause only cold can
preserve the things i hold
childish, not childlike, unchanging
the formaldehyde fetus is not a child
is not the babe reborn
and you have warned the fire next time
and not the water,
but to be ready,
krishna like i must come back, three times
through water, fire, wind, then in your lightning-
and if in rebirth near the jordan, in this bedroom
i feel my burdens lightening
they were never mine
well, then despite reasonless reservations
and ignoring coward hesitations since you
chose to be human, then so will we
and in the making of that choice
there is epiphany