In the Wheat ~ Songs in Your Presence


Silence was a columned hall
of order
we sat in
and expanded
beyond the boundaries
of boundless
open spaces.


I felt comfortable
near pendulums of time
wheezing in clocks,
counting strokes
from the steeple
across the lake,
and would lie there thinking
how tidy days
could pass on wings
through quiet rooms
of scheduled order.


Who ever counted our myriad passages
through silent confines
of corridors and halls
in ordered rhythmic traffic
on porous yellow tiles?


You penetrated our narrow spaces
with glistening swords
of slanted sunlight
and we felt spurred
by Your brazen flourishes.
Matt Cashore
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