James Wright

"But I have burned already down to bone.

There is a fire that burns beyond the names

Of sludge and filth of which this world is made.

Agony sears the dark flesh of the body,

And lifts me higher than the smoke, to rise

Above the earth, above the sacrifice;

Until my soul flares outward like a blue

Blossom of gas fire dancing in mid-air:

Free of the body’s work of twisted iron."

I clearly love this poem, as this is the third time I've posted it or an excerpt from it. I can't get away.