In the Wheat ~ Songs in Your Presence


We knew You expected from us Latin
so we studied it
to make our tongues say
those words You wanted,
but sulked when Cicero was given
all that attention in Your stead.


when kneeling
we would gaze at the grain
in the wood
and wonder if I
had come upon
ciphered words
to understand
written boldly
in Your flowing hand.


We were just boys—,
no wonder you liked us.

Remember how we
sat up straight
and learned
to meditate on You
mornings at six,
when outside
the sun was picking
her way
up the iced crystal
birch tree?


How we learned
the countless
columns of words
in Latin, French and Greek
stacking them to reach You with,
we masons in Babel,
til they fell down around us
and we,
with dusty tongues
sat speechless
on our hills of rubble.
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