The Ascension Of Kong

By Ken Woodley

When I rose
I fell,
falling heavily
through stained glass windows
until they became
the sides of city skyscrapers
and I climbed
manmade stories,
knocking down planes
with upraised arms
until I found you at the top,
telling me that God is Love,
and I turned to see
the shadow
of my former self
lying on the street
below.

By Ken Woodley

When I rose
I fell,
falling heavily
through stained glass windows
until they became
the sides of city skyscrapers
and I climbed
manmade stories,
knocking down planes
with upraised arms
until I found you at the top,
telling me that God is Love,
and I turned to see
the shadow
of my former self
lying on the street
below.

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