It is Quiet here between Rock and Hard place
in the curl of the wave before it crackle- crashes over
.. crust crumbles and Things change.. yet
everything within, says , ” Rest, all is well..”
I know, I know. This Skin is tender in the Rock,
this detour , where my heart arrests Your
gaze : stunned with that particular Silence
that decrees, ” All is well..” and I
am guilty that now, am unafraid / celebrating
Feasts I do not yet own ; harvesting Fields yet unploughed /
anchoring ships, still ravaged/soothing tears
Was Preparing for more chaos, not Peace. Not Peace.
What do I do with These ??
What do I do
with These .. new Mercies ..?