Time ??
November 17, 2009
The hill is not really very steep.
Anymore.
For I have been climbing a long, long time.
Slowly, and in the dark.
Still green,
The forests and pastures melt behind me unseen.
Echoing the dim, muted colors
Of night smoke and the countryside in Autumn.
Captured by my questions and hope.
Suspended for a singular moment, clear and soaring,
It is
No longer dawn,
Not quite daylight.
This massive planet balances timeless
Between the moon and the sun.
Then silent thunder
The pale sky trembles with turquoise, pearl and orange.
Brighter than the new gold sun,
Glowing like a gift of starlight,
The White Horse canters like a king wonderful.
Along the ridge
And through the arch of sharp and blazing oaks.
Prayers; waiting, brilliant leaves
Swirl and rise at his passing.
Hosannah?
(c) Susan Brooks Thomas
January 2000 Woodbury, Georgia
Revised: 9/11/2005, & 11/17/09 Reedville, Virginia
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