I saw God's eye in the cloud.
It was looking at me.
Scoured and expectant,
descending from flight
into the pale of morning,
pressing further into summer somnolence,
bursting with juice,
like fruit
self contained in all its holy summer sweetness:
creaming over sound, with all the bells ringing:-
I'm learning survival in wary silence, remembering
the eye.
© 2010 Charlotte Merrill Jensen
No comments:
Post a Comment