Prisoners

God’s words ride on torrent clouds,
pass over nature’s buttressed solitude.
He rules her vapors north or south,
and her lovers bear them simple wonder.

God’s words stand unseen in the valley
where, once the north wind blows out,
you are set on the ways of heat and dust,
the long ways of streets and heat and dust,

and their prisoners search for wonder.
Their prisoners wait to wonder.