Prayer For The Jets
Time to say our prayers my love
Light the morning lamp, time to rise
I will roll the jets out on their runways
While you brew fresh cyanide,
The grackles and cardinals are holding mass out by the bush
Rumpus runs to join the choir, you laughingly tell her to shush,
Just like a story in a dream, your voice is a wand dipped in light sky-blue
Takes me unawares where you have gone like a river pouring through
The forests of my soul where your eyes pierce my wounds to heal
No one knows my night like you, who knows just how it feels
Fields are living out beyond fossil cities hardening concrete
I love your ivy leaf the laurel wreath from which you weave a dress
As the chariot flies across match head hills I bask in your caress,
Time to say our prayers my love.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 983 times
Written on 2014-01-27 at 20:42
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