all they think about
is the sin of the doing
of hair coming undone
the exotic misery of
life borrowed
there are worse things
could've missed it altogether
not found the dearness of it
deep to the marrow
in a softly shared song
not a life for the faint
not a life seemly chosen
yet even along the small path
of one small spark
is divine purpose
a radiance of angels
the impossibility of love's goodness
unconditionally settled for and joyfully
made do
No comments:
Post a Comment