You are the only sustenance,


that I have.

And in it, I need not

seek solace from myself

or others.

But I am so frightened.

The world brims over with

liquid greed and misdirection

and I pray for it all to evaporate

even if it means losing part of myself.

There is a collection of societal puddles

at my feet

steadily rising...

And what you ask of me

is so beautiful

I can't help but imagine

all other talents useless:

No greater art than Faith.

None simpler

yet I feel so hopelessly clueless.

I wish you'd place me

in a filthy manger

so I can mature

stranger to these daily trappings.

Lord, help me in mapping an escape.

I am fixated on this realm's walls

and your window pane is small

but by God it's there.

It's why I jot now

in this picnic air.

A family of ducks this moment

has encircled me in a grassy feast.

Flapped smiles so sweet.

Is this your answer to my prayer?

For I can't think it chance.

Proof of your ear, to say the least.

Thank you.

They have gone now

but the message is clear.

Yet another light

in one of too many

darkened rooms

has come on now.

This is the verse of a frightened child

unable to grab that extra mile

of verbosity and wit.

A poet handicapped

under you:

split in my decision

to make revisions to your wonder


just cry the inspiration...

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