Over
our Heads
(“I am coming to you
now. But I pray these things while I am still in the world. I say all this so
that these followers can have the true happiness that I have. I want them to be
completely happy.” John 17:13)
Angelic arpeggios are always dancing in a world with perfect acoustics.
Rain spins and mockingbirds on old limbs on forested ledges echo
the rounded chords; writing and rewriting, singing their choreography
under our feet,
and
over our heads,
and
within the earth,
and
from the farthest star.
Rain spins and mockingbirds on old limbs on forested ledges echo
the rounded chords; writing and rewriting, singing their choreography
under our feet,
and
over our heads,
and
within the earth,
and
from the farthest star.
I don’t know what the future is for my babies. I only wish them
happiness.
Autumn drips more often in syncopation, the rain reminds the wind
to chime, bamboo and aluminum, hanging from garage and patio eaves.
The leaves take a chance, flying from their perches with cursive flight plans
until they land to cover the hillsides until snow.
to chime, bamboo and aluminum, hanging from garage and patio eaves.
The leaves take a chance, flying from their perches with cursive flight plans
until they land to cover the hillsides until snow.
The Father hears the request of the Son; in this world, before the next
one,
for joy to be modified so all can read the lines, and memorized, the day
that begins mournful can arise, not theorized and greater dimension than
pantomime, is sung without a thought of how it will end, or
why it began.
for joy to be modified so all can read the lines, and memorized, the day
that begins mournful can arise, not theorized and greater dimension than
pantomime, is sung without a thought of how it will end, or
why it began.
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