If the prophets broke in
through the doors of night,
the zodiac of demon gods
wound like a ghastly wreath of flowers
round the head -
rocking the secrets of the falling and rising
skies on their shoulders –
for those who long since fled in terror -
If the prophets broke in
through the doors of night,
the course of the stars scored in their palms
glowing golden –
for those long sunk in sleep –
If the prophets broke in
through the doors of night
tearing wounds with their words
into fields of habit,
a distant crop hauled home
for the laborer
who no longer waits at evening –
If the prophets broke in
through the doors of night
and sought an ear like a homeland –
Ear of mankind
overgrown with nettles,
would you hear?
If the voice of the prophets
blew
on flutes made of murdered children's bones
and exhaled airs burnt with
martyrs’ cries-
if they built a bridge of old men's dying
groans –
Ear of mankind,
occupied with small sounds,
would you hear?
If the prophets
rushed in with the storm-pinions of eternity
if they broke open your acoustic duct with the words:
Which of you wants to make war against a mystery
who wants to invent the star-death?
If the prophets stood up
in the night of mankind
like lovers who seek the heart of the beloved,
night of mankind
would you have a heart to offer?
Sachs, Nelly "If the Prophets Broke In" Burning Bright: An Anthology of Sacred Poetry. Hampl, Patricia, ed. New York: Ballantine Books, 1995. 105-6.