Phoenix

A misanthropic meenister. A black shag.
His pulpit-pouer bigged heich
On a Satanic crag.

I coored frae his goun that flapped,
Wide as the wings o Hell,
A pinioned, fledglin bairn.

Bumbazed, on penitent pews, His God-forsaken brood
War gart tae learn,
That Art's the Divil's lure,
That aathin blythe an bonnie wis impure:

He gaed us guilt fur praise.
His seenistry o sermons war drooned spires,
That wid impale me yet, infernal ministry!
A skeletal-clook o hatefu Lazarus,
Grave-guff, that's ill tae lay
Yon cruel, nerra creed.
Wersh baptism, whar ilkie fat misdeed
Wis indexed, coonted, wyed.

A pitiless faith,
I weir the scrats o't yet,
The hett scauld o its skaith.

The early fowk, wha luiked oot-ower this lan,
Held aa the warld a mervel.
Livin seed, a blessin,
Loued the sun
An cast nae stane upon their brither man.
Gled, in their Celtic Avalon.

I flap ma wings, a latchy Phoenix,
Rise frae the aisse o kirk-inflicted Purgatory,
Graceless bit gratefu,
In a re-birth, sairly won,
Freed frae the caliboose;
The spectral girn o Calvin's charnel-hoose!

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