27 lines
821 B
Plaintext
Executable File
27 lines
821 B
Plaintext
Executable File
Cultivator
|
|
2022-05-20
|
|
|
|
***
|
|
|
|
We're coming up on the end of the Eschaton, you and I,
|
|
and for almost a year I've planned for next month to die.
|
|
But it's impossible to plan for every contingency.
|
|
What are we to do if May passes and I'm still living?
|
|
|
|
I've kept this faith secret in me, learned every way to hide
|
|
and still let through a sliver of this lightning kept inside.
|
|
There's so much love you've planted in this garden that's my body
|
|
that perhaps, if I stand still enough, others will see my wings.
|
|
|
|
In the birds that convened outside my window
|
|
gathered in a flock until they took flight,
|
|
in the blackened tree branches that scraped
|
|
against an ashen gray sky,
|
|
in the first blooms and blossoms
|
|
of my garden in birthing spring:
|
|
if it was good and beautiful, I saw you in everything.
|
|
|
|
***
|
|
|
|
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
|