Stand
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Rose petals fell before us
Hands slid into each
Evening’s intermittent rays
Twinkled out a desperate reach.
We took those steps together
Blessed by day and holy night
With gratitude for measured feelings;
Endless love or injured flight
Fortunate ones allowed to share
A moment, or perhaps a pair.
And when the moment came;
It came for you.
No worthy breath bestowed
Or made anew.
Through curtain raised
Dawn became so still
No pulse of time to feel
For us until:
Senses stretched to yearning
As day to night entwine
Master's hand to each entreats,
Our time, from fruit of vine.
Sweet time, forever sweet
Whose endless touch we wear,
Breath as proof of life each soul to bear.
So Brief the hour given hearts to care.
Shapes mistaken in our form
The instruments we carry
Breath no less than sunless storm,
Teach life, to never tarry.
Mindless monks and fruitless sisters
Bargainers with tongues in blisters
Salesmen, pitchers, burdened ditchers
Promising a truth so coarse;
Cowards,
Watching all of this, without remorse.
Stand.
And we all stood.
Fast, with only bad and good between,
Prayers shaped
With words we could not sell,
Looking back to where we could have been
Stepped one by one off precipice;
And fell.
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2021
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