And Then the Sun Will Rise
Life just one of many tares
upon our soul’s lost fabric shorn.
smaller losses grown beside
such little mosses sown.
breeding lichen friends to all;
mounting by and bye,
in hopes to high escape the wall.
When first lost directions fallow;
tomorrow is the laugh,
so lilting shallow life, the fatted calf.
Breech the breeze; her golden face and sleeve
her bladed arc swung longe to endless grieve.
for thou art made of mud and such,
unbeknownst; until a touch,
and then
the sun will rise.
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