The Giant

The giant came thundering down the mountain
Fists swaying from side to side
Taking out forests and towns
Collapsing bones and lungs underfoot
His weight sending the hardest heart waxen
Onwards he skipped and jumped
Raising towers, bridges, walls
Trailing his spoils behind him
Until he rests in his cradle
The self-styled mountain king
His land flat and ordered
Exactly as he’s made it
A God of all things
Of all but the she
Sitting quietly in her corner
Out of his destruction path
An onlooker spinning and weaving
And Recording his work
That she’ll share with her daughter
And her daughter’s daughter
The bedspread covering the bodies
Will recall the tale
Of The God who came crashing to earth
And who stole our world
But who failed to plunder
Our greatest of gifts
Our secret weapons of choice
Our songs, spun through thread
And our echoing Voice

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