Dear God,

Escort me through this thicket,
shiny leaves, the thorns that rip
tender skin, this dense canopy that
amplifies the cicadas’ song.

My vision is
impaired rhythmically
from my heart about to burst,
on to off again, the time
between lives, not to be
and then…

Help me, God.

I cannot reach the rain.

Chagall 2018
 

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