God’s Plan

In the hand of the possible,
I watch the tides turn;
the season of
summer scratching and stripping each leaf
its green as it
hangs on futility,
bitterly,
till nothing is left
of her.
Eternally the time
change
pulses on in progressive tones
shaping,
shading the moment
with a beauty
I long to live in forever.
The wash of water frozen, thawed, and warmed
so swimming bright sun
we float surrounded by celebrating trees sweet
aroma billowing
a bellow
fall for another reason
to chill, then freeze
and watch taught
squeeze of molecules
huddled
close constriction
suspension
wide
open
impermeability.
Letting go, as God wants
I hear the child with her voice angelic
bringing me to
the knees of my pain.
For I am asking again and again,
“Please don’t change, please stay the same.”
As, again and again, the cruelty of
the revolutionary orb seduces my longing,
Forgotten in the chaos of my suffering,
I feel the comfort drained,
so it may be filled again.