A Spare

What does an undying god require?

But desire for fulfillment of the laws of love

A self sacrificial response to the beloveds’ judgement 

I know of nothing briefer than infinity 

The sleeps between sorrows 

Where I am God’s open mouth

Full of broken speech 

In hands dizzy by flights of red birds 

Fathering food or sewing trees

Their purpose knows not what guides it’s windy wills 

And, in that sickness, met God 

I paint my head and ask, what roots 

A mask is only as heavy as its feet off the ground

And they’re bursting in blooms called nuisance 

My baskets seem to hold only water - it’s wetness unmatched for the grains of sand that wash through the veins 

It was bound on earth

At its creation 

What I long to loose and pour upon taller trees