“Why were you hiding?”
No, please thank you, I was not hiding
but biding
time
while the garden grew regardless
“Why were you hiding?”
No, please thank you, I was not hiding
but biding
time
while the garden grew regardless
A pound of potatoes
cools the boil
but they’ll cook
soon enough
you’ll see
Said earthly good isn’t so good.
Some heaven doth give it the lie.
To feed the world
leaves a feather
just so I’ll know
Grinding these hopes
but I’ll make bread from this
listless dust born of nopes.
Just give me, O Lord,
that ingredient least
that lifts me to live,
Your beneficent yeast.
Wheat growing
and the wind blowing,
and the implication,
not what is said
Praises come through the speakers.
Someone says, Turn it down.