Reveille

Time to wake
up, time to awake,
let a spring of discontent wash
this winter away, wash this winter
of complacency clean.

Let it come.

Let it wash over all.
Wash it over and done,
and over and over,
and under and done
as well - let it wash all,
and all wash clean. Wash under
and down, drown
every blessed thing
that can't
go on living like this,

there now. Let the buds of summer
spring from the deep spring mud,
as every growing thing
takes root downstream -

and above, let the birds pour
forth like rain
- sideways in the sun.

Let it be these ways always,
or at least, for a count of days
without count.

Let it ring.

Let the choir of frogs and
angels sing, for the fall of man
is always such a glorious thing.