There was pain and comfort enough to go around back then
Not like these days
Now a veil slides
through my annointed hair
not falling past my shoulders
Between God and I there should be gifts enough to cover the earth
Wooded lungs
and bowl-like black skies
Skin-like pink flowers
Water
and grass
and bugs
and eyes that see
Between God and I
stand mirrors that multiply
He cries when I cry and kneels before me as I kneel
And our pain and comfort multiplies, too
And there should be more than enough to go around this half-vacated bedroom
