In the telling of the tea leaves
from the light of candle flame,
is the vision of the coming
of more ways to stay the same.
From the fragrance of more incense
and the taste of sacred wine,
is the knowing of the reason
God will never make you mine.
From the praying to the candle,
in the lighted crystal ball,
is a love forever turning
and the longing for it all.
In the praying for more reason
and the need to see the light,
are the words forever coming
from your dark and lonely plight.
After all your midnight praying
To the dead you hold so dear,
There's no more the feeling coming
Though the longest night is near.
© ron wilson