First Time You Heard

did you fall before the strings
stopped humming?  Did you fall
to your lowdown dirty knees and
cry while you were down there?
Did you wrap your arms around it
and beg for more?

Did you call that a prayer?
Did you call it a single hymn
or a whole hymnal’s worth
of a crawl toward glory?
Did you stop to think that blues
was as much a song of Paradise
as any grand chorus?

Did you start to
imagine that heaven wasn’t on high
but rooted in the rich soil?  Did you ever
think that God is as deep
as Deep Ellum, carries us
like a freight train carries
secret travelers, can bend a note
like an ocean bends the shore,
and when the last note stops humming
you’re always going to fall on your knees,

for the blues isn’t really  a devil’s method —

if it was how could it wake up your soul
again and again
one twelve bar run at a time?