Tuesday, March 05, 2013

Musings on a Sunset's Stamp (Romans 1:20)

Why are my thoughts of you
So low?
When the sunset sails into
Titanic reds
Snarls of eager orange
And yellow, quickly-gone
Snatched into a kingly birth
Why are my thoughts of you
So low?
Could I but catch the sky,
Maybe find your hidden heel
Are your footsteps just too high
For a mind recklessly below
To feel?

I stretch my mind impossibly
Against the chaptered heavens
Fingers run red-soaked words
Thinking through the narrow gate
To someway sail my thoughts on high
And peer at the infinite corner

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