Somebody,
Cut his hair
And send him out to play.
Someone,
While there is time,
Call him down from his high place.
Tell him,
Before terror marks his face,
He will belong to the hunted.
Say
He will be betrayed,
Or high on some fruited hill
Die naked with thieves.
Go to him
While fire is in his flesh:
Take him whole
And kiss his young mouth into wisdom
And healing.
