Friday, July 15, 2011

Day 329, the hand of God

Imagine the sunset swarming
Swirling, pulsing in the dusk

The umber blue wind
Plucking up it's favorite fruits

Our day his harvest.

We bow, obedient, contrite
Ashamed of what we feed it


The pulp blurring, bleeding
staining the horizon night
Until a dim moon illuminates
The hunger of our souls

Rest becomes our refuge
From this godless midnight
Drunkeness a way to blur
The black to gray

We gnash and gnaw on what's left
Of our pitiful offerings
Until the hand of God
Places one more sun

Until dawn disturbs us
Shakes us from our sleep
Her tender breath
A golden glow that hovers

Glittering the darkest space
With her extraordinary light
Shaking the world to awaken, warn
Before day blazes in and burns our offerings

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