06-10-2021, 03:29 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-12-2021, 07:22 PM by RiverNotch.)
Dawn Psalm
A walking sweater trots across a barren
field, searching for a Judas tree.
Somehow the dried out riverbeds
that weave through ancient rocks are warped
as if a vengeful lord maligned by time
shatters busts and scrapes out names,
leaving behind a rod, a cup
that never overflows, a seat
before a wolf -- a snarl -- a gleaming
pair of shears. "It's called an exultation,
dear, and thou art the roast."
Is it mercy, then, that springs
the sheep to where two mighty trees --
one oak, one linden -- intertwine?
A walking sweater trots across a barren
field, searching for a Judas tree.
Somehow the dried out riverbeds
that weave through ancient rocks are warped
as if a vengeful lord maligned by time
shatters busts and scrapes out names,
leaving behind a rod, a cup
that never overflows, a seat
before a wolf -- a snarl -- a gleaming
pair of shears. "It's called an exultation,
dear, and thou art the roast."
Is it mercy, then, that springs
the sheep to where two mighty trees --
one oak, one linden -- intertwine?