If a Field

If a Field

(“When the ground soaks up the falling rain and bears a good crop for the farmer, it has God’s blessing.” Hebrews 6:7)

“…but if a field bears thorns and thistles, it is useless. The farmer will soon condemn that field and burn it.”

And the day I started remains exactly where I left it
the. And the day I am playing out seems only so much
greasepaint covering how little progress has been made.

And the rain falls violently outside my patio window,
the wind fiercely tears the wind chimes off their

Nails in the wood.

I want to text the world to ask where my dreams disappeared,
I want an answer to my letters, I swear I would leave those days
behind
for just one word, or tear, or admission of the omissions that
send the bucket into the well behind my eyes, never returning dry.

I have all the rain I need, and dry, I remain the same
as the day I started. Like the expanding universe, stars
flying light-years further each second,
I discover the friends that once were my milky way
are beyond my ability to see; their appearance reaching me
20 years after the fact.

I have all the rain I need, and burned, I am on the outside,
a dry asteroid at the outer limits of light’s furthest spectrum.