Replying to a comment on:

Night Letter to Yahweh (Free verse) by david

All night an illness barred me from that loam-rich sleep we are now heir to, we who lie flat for eight hours in darkness, then rise, barely rested for half a sun, watch colour T.V. because the scientists and marketing executives tell us our ancestors had eyes cued to ripening fruit. Us, lazing on sun-drenched platforms, still marvelling at hand-me-down miracles like birth. Near dawn, I took the Word from the nightstand, and found myself soon with lantern-jawed humans, trapped in the deserts of our past, with deft fishnet-weavers, oracular fish, and rocks that gave water, spilling from pond to pond. Then, nodding in ricochet delight, I feasted on the spellbinding fruit You grow -- that way of beholding which is a form of prayer, and on the still, blue, spring morning, I knew I would carry its seeds to a seemingly ungodly place.

david 4-Jul-03/3:34 PM
HUT?




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001