Jun 03

On Meridian’s summit
During this Sabbath’s media res
man’s hands meet the skin of God’s sacrifices
to our bellies
Giving them a thrashing
Calling forth an always already gifted
offering of rains
To meet oil slick brows
To mix with beads of a healing kind
Cleansing wounds incurred from nature’s course
All the while, rays pour through leaf-lined eyelets
to kiss the lids of His children.

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