when

God forgive us--

this darkness, with the stars

splinters in the night

to stare up into the depths

and grimace at the fires

spinning burning across the black

God forgive us--

who cursed the sun blazing

the leaves rustling

and hissed at the ever-moving

the empty lushness

the underbrush, thick and unspeaking

the sightless green on the branch

God forgive us--

who raised our hands

and commanded that the light streaming

the flashing red and yellow

whispering, that the branches

be the rustling of a crowd

the tall trunks shooting upwards

be the pillars of the hall

--that the empty road be a street

lined with souls,

cheering, murmuring triumph
urging you home

God forgive us--

for saying that He had a name

for using it,

--but it will come

when you have walked far enough
to weariness and beyond it
and slumped against a palm tree
--not, then

but some night,
with the clouds hanging low
the doors opening and closing
the voices murmuring
through the green-blue shadows

--there will come a time

when dark is just another color

and the tumult, the fire

of the days, that fell like showers

of sparks, around you--

--that burned in your skin
when you will no longer snarl at Heaven
nor clench teeth silently
at its absence

when it will walk with you
lie alongside you
when you will lie content
with the brush of the sky
across your shoulders
trailing down