An Easter Poem (A Day Early)

Allow me to compose for You,
for I called You
a poem knowing that You
in all You
are

are art.

You are words dripping
from my tongue, satiating
A thirst for medium
form, and style,
Life.

I called

You, Poetry.
You showed up
late and underdressed,
A sight to behold.

All glory,
In the sunlight.

Advertisements

Poem: Untitled

Untitled

 

Brains think and believe

in electricity that sparks 

movement from limb to limb.

And we continue

in this way calling it synapse

or science,

Which is really just a more

decorative description 

for that which we cannot understand.

 

Psalm 104:27-30