Psalm of Myself

I set myself to the page

That yawns like a chasm

And all its layers of whiteness

Stand in silent condemnation

Of all that I am not

Nor hope to ever be

In relation to what I am"

Forgiven

 

The fairy tales I studied in the nursery

Hold no charm in the alley

Where cats and dogs fight for scraps

A little to go far

A distance reached in bites and snarls

Only to end in mystery"

            Forgiven

 

I traipse the tangled wood outside my door

In search of a sock, an alienated cotton traveler

Never where he is supposed to be

Forlorn and threadbare but much beloved

For the warmth provided in old times past

For the mercy of these hours"

            Forgiven

 

And when I close my eyes light motes remind me

That all is energy that leaves and returns

That never settles in one place twice

And all the pastures of unchanging landscapes

Are illusion, tricks of the light that is never still

That never forgets"

            Forgiven