
That Poem

Given space
All it contains
As an endowment, a gift
A choice now
Plunder the earthen quiet
Pluck sentient jewels as personal trophies
Place my footstep as an uncontrolled burn upon what sustains me?
How do I treat thee, miracles
Poison myself no more
Ponder the treasure with all I am
Position omniscience between it and a carnal mind
All the acreage
As certain as certain can be
A zealot protector
Bless’ed space
It's our backyard
We're allowed
We allow ourselves
Such rights
As to keep a few toys strewn about
Such pleasures
Of the dancing of sun and shadows
Upon the nearly too-long grass
That feels so silky
So blessedly silky
Against our ankles and feet
And the breeze….
She a girl
Who understood a heart
Who served her Master
Who trembled in fear
Who on her knees
Pondered
Treasured
Acquiesced
Became
Blessed