(a trifle)

He said into himself
My body is a horse
White horse for red;
My teeth are gemstones, blue
Big gemstones. Is my soul
A gemstone or a rule
For marching angels? Said
He in himself, my body is
America, and mountainous.
My breath is founding fathers who
By three years old
All holy writ had read.
Out chopping cherry trees,
And catching lightning with a thread.
My body is your voice,
A wave of sound for leavening
The future’s perfect bread.
My body is me asking God
To make Earth His. Uplift the dead.
It groans in syllables of ice.
My body is commandments, brake
In concrete slabs. Sapphire zed.
My body is me stretching. Knead
Me to your comprehend.
My body will not dead.
Like green clear oceans, wind;
Huge sunpaths; freedom, depth.
Make me your breath.
He said into himself
My body is your grace,
Mount then your grace for war,
White war or red.