A Man Dreams of God and God Dreams of Man

When night comes at last,
Dragging it's long face down,
When drunk, the gash of dusk comes.
Of lamentation, of it's cries,
Of laughter and the soothing music into 
your ears.
For something I couldn't understand.
When, free at last
The night had won again,
It's cries were louder than what we could 
do.

When mourning comes, 
Dressed in black and grim faces
Down the roads forevermore.
When,
Sober at the lash of dawn,
Do we go where we are needed.
It's songs were much more beautiful than I 
could do.
When,
Making way for the ropes of day,
Do we stumble and fall.
As we all go back to weaving the stories,
Tapestries, it is what you willed.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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