From There

From There

(“Together with Christ Jesus God also raised us up and seated us in the heavens.” Ephesians 2:6)

Unheated and numb, the fingers burn urging broken windows
closed in prairie midwinters. Patched as well as we can, the cold
still sneaks through the threadbare attempts at warmth.

Our world is white and crystal; it is cotton and silk.
Our world is cottonwoods bare in December, stark solos
waving black against the blue sunsets in ice. Our world
is sundogs and coldstars; it is barren and waiting.

Warmed all day the windowpane burns the fingers against
HVAC attempts at beating the heat. Midsummer sun draws
its arrows, amplifying the boiling point; potted plants
have lost their bloom left on the sundeck alone.

Our world is sand and muddy; it is linen and wool.
Our world is apple trees full in September, offerings
and reminders outside the perimeter of bonfire songs
that match the orange dusk. Our world is heatstroke and
corndogs; it is burden and winsome.

Above the atmosphere and
outside planetary rotation;
height and time expand our view. The farthest stars
may have winked their final gasp long before our eyes
perceived it.

Above the galaxy and
outside the creation’s beginning;
within time and space the New Man came
to transfer vision, sit us down on the highest mountain,
and let us, darkly, review it from above.