before the proof
was come to be
our faith was in forever
gave our glory to the heavens
our longing to the lake
spoke in tongues
yet never knew
the language that would save us
whispered from the depths within
as love we pushed away

quiet as a choir rests –
innocence for trading
the river for a seat beside the shore
lovers moved in perfect time
but swore the night was different
forgotten now (a time for sleep)
the dreamers couldn’t rest

prophets came
and placed the blame
on politics and passion
believers lined the eager banks
and fought the urge to curse –
thought became so tangled
we scarce could find the meaning
carved into the cedars
every evidence of word

as birch to dry
and songs where men
had never learned to listen –
sparrows stood atop the violin
and gave to these
(the worst of those)
lessons in surrender
gypsies rode an ancient flame
to resurrect the sun

beetles marched
beneath the blade
with katydid and weevil
bespoke of war
(and rumors of)
dignity and truth –
soldiers slain with harsh disdain
of what (it doesn’t matter)
reminders of forgiveness
fell in colors –
warm and green

then burned to ash
the testament –
was never ours to utter
oceans rose as rivers raced
backward to begin –
sworn to grace
each warm embrace –
would lend us back
to love