Clear As Fog

Order. It pervades all things, inextricably linking what we sense in this world with what we cannot beyond it. It's everywhere.

The stars above, and the galaxies of souls below.
The tongue, and the eternal Garden it tends to.
The soft bloom of a rose welcoming sun, and a prayer answered.
The silent obeisance of the trees, and the circumambulation of the planets.
I imagine the marauding armies of men portending hosts of avenging angels joined in ranks, faithfully holding back for an appointed time.
I suppose then that one may hope to divine the next move of a man by looking to what his child has done.

But then I also expect rain at my every act of heedlessness. It seldom falls.

In Sonnet

Each thing that meets the eye is but a sign
Of something that lives on beyond this earth;
Our souls reflect celestial design,
And cool remembrance brings a Garden's birth;
The answer to a prayer like the sun
That bathes the petals of a blooming rose;
The silent bowing of the trees as one
To match the manner every planet goes.
I wonder if the blood that armies spill
Portends a host of angels foming ranks
Awaiting the allowance of their will
To carry out the justice it demands.
I often think my sins will bring the rain,
But all that falls are hopes that rise again.

In Honor of Childhood Daydreams

Don't mind me, little boy, carry on with your stare
Past the faces in the room into the void out there,
You may be here in the flesh, but your heart's elsewhere;
And that's fair.

There is so much to see, and so much to hear,
Much to reject, and much to hold dear,
Let the light in your eyes slay the darkness you fear;
Go on, peer!

There's a lot we know, and a lot we don't,
It seems the more that we learn, the more we won't;
Take a break from what shines through the apps you own
On your phone.

Walking

I can walk all I want,
I can go any place,
With my heart in my hand, and my feet on the road
And the sun in my face.

I can sing all I want
To the tune of my soul,
I can reach very high, grab a handful of sky
And decide I am whole.

But each shadow's a sign
To an eye that can see
Through the fog of the sin that it finds itself in,
Yes, I'm talking 'bout me.

And the laughter like wine
Makes the colors all dance
Till you turn your eyes down, as you look to the ground
At a shadow of chance.

Now I'm seeking a place
Past the reaches of space
Where no shadow is born, and a soul that is torn
May be mended by grace.