Psalms
Jul 24, 2017 · 1 min read
I look up at the things I think are you.
The graying clouds expand over the fields
To the south and I am sure that it is you in motion,
acting on some small prayer before the wind and the rain
come in.
And I am sure that it was you I saw in the morning,
Sitting among the trees and waking the light from where it
slept among the shadows like a subtle pregnancy.
And it was you that stirred my bones to laugh
as the water rushed to greet me as a young man
in the throes of a young joy when all burden fell from me
and I reconciled my earnestness for you.
Will you come before the cacophony takes me and
the years of my life are spent in the rashness of youth
and folly and I am lost from you utterly.
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