These god-like stones
These god-like stones will end with time,
ruined and lost among progress’ monoliths.
My hair tunnels into my ear as I
light matches in the frozen wind.
Ground is hard to till with rocks
animals and specters now call home.
I search for morsels on withered plants
sprouting from concrete catacombs:
the midnight hunger of the prosperous,
waking from pillows of down to go downstairs
searching for more than food.
Please look down momentarily
Around me the sinful creatures try to connect to a Holy God.
Unable to sing, I sulk carried away by the flood of worship.
The poet or prose couldn’t provide the pen for this praise.
Avoiding rocks and rapids threatening my concentration on your face.
Do I dare to look up and blind myself .
Please look down momentarily.