At Thy Command

The grain of wheat dies at Thy command unconscious of Your living in its shell turning it to life giving bread perpetuating it ages without end nursing it with rain and sunny smiles from seed to stalk a golden social plant bowing its seeded hairy head in breezy dance with poppy skirts in red illumed by a ruby sunset veil with robin breasts singing gratitude before the night descends its blinding veil to equalizes colors' vibrant hues in noncompeting shades of resting black switching lights of distant trembling lamps luminous smile of vagrant onion slice to make of night a little less than death before awaking to splendor rosy rays sparkling diamonds on grassy finger hands that mist to vanish then return to play hanging water lamps on leaves and branches that drip into the throat of parched earth to feed the roots and soften seeds to sprout perennial cycle feeding and being fed and all creation obeying seems content except for man to whom You gave will to obey or to dissent the pupil of Your eyes You call friend by interests daily affairs being led astray the banquet ready for repentant heir all set with such glorious royal splendor no eyes have ever seen nor ears have heard the marvel of a joy without compare beyond the imagined no pen can write only faith can travel Brian Strand: First place Trophy Winner- Your Choice Again-2/20/24 Brian Strand-You Say-Third Place Winner-3/14/23 First Place Winner: Brian Strand- All yours-1/17/21