Ezekiel’s Chorus
by Simone Dos Anjos

There is a deep music & I am a part in it; there is a deep 
             & small music, & I am the smallest part, singing!
 
       I have my travels & through them have I become this 
land, & I am not free: there is a politic. It is the religion.


The Lord said to me “Son of Man can these bones live?”
               & I spoke to say to Him “O Lord God, You know”


all-tho I saw, to myself, no valley of bone. & He said again
“Prophesy to these bones, & surely they shall live again”


I spoke & everything did eventually die. Eli, Eli, lama 
sabachthani? Is my task to die never completed? To Ashes I,


to dust! Go, my body, sing no more. The man I am is not but
    a singing stone. I will stake my death on the song I have


sung, my death & my God alone for He is in it, & of me,
                         & of Him I sing loudly to the ground.