The Lord God Has Given Me A Well-Trained Tongue, That I Might Know How To Speak To The Weary A Word That Will Rouse Them.

they are here
tongues from the skies of blue
skies of clear waters
tiny lights hanging
like fireflies on the trees
in multitudes

drips of light hovering
resting on the hair of my head
unlike the disciples
i do not speak
those tongues
i only write them
from here
where i sit
miles and miles away from you
i, trying to make
a connection
you, empty hands to empty hands
in space
we have never all meet
but we are beginning to understand
the wisdom of interlinks
that fence that separates my house
from your house
where a morning glory
climbs, hold on with her
reaches to a sky
with its tendrils
and greets you
with the sweetest petal of
a very simple


Comments (1)

this poem is perfect