While Watching Nature

Yesterday I wrote love poems

to a mirage;

the day before I stared at lily ponds.

Yet today I am simply indebted

to the man who called

a clear conscience their softest pillow.


These trees that have grown,

are growing, I say–

they provide the same service.


As long as your trunk is straight,

and your roots don’t tire,

you can move upwards,

above the negatives, above perfection

and the need for it.


You will find peace.


You will find a harmony of love

and rhyme that convinces you

our God must exist, even now.

June 5, 2014

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