The Preordained Rivers Of Another School Day Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I am wetted stone where
The tears of caged
Daydreams fall
In an instigated midway
Where adolescent lions yawn:
I miraculously stare out of
The windowless hall
The specters of collected
Truancies haunt,
T-shirted and backpacked:
They go in their preordained
Rivers to oasis’s of
Maths and sciences—
And mope at the shores in the carnivorous
Sunlight of a featureless church;
But above their yawning persimmon
Throats,
Fully formed angels leap through
The well-developed daylight
That is yet theirs to reach—
As they listen to the unobtainable grace
Cascading up there, roaring in tumultous evaporations
In the forgetful senses perfuming the
Metamorphosed limbs of an orchard the perfumes of
Which are too high for them to leap;
Though they try—fish returning home to blind
Foxes who sit them at their dinner table
Not knowing how very soon it is that they will have to leave
Once more to cascade through the preordained
Rivers of another school day.