Image: Created by Perplexity
Yea, though I Walk
Through the valley where rock faces stick out of the moss—
I walked that day until my feet had darkened like clay
The color of rust in the sun sheeting off old automobile
Bodies abandoned to the weeds by owners who
Could no longer tolerate their undependability.
My heart stole the music of the thundering oaks
Sharing their leaves and birds there in the coming rain
That I smelled moments before it soaked my hair,
My clothes, my skin while I had planted my feet
In the ancient floor that curves and curves.
Upward, the hill led to the road and my dripping body
Plodded the bend until a rainbow appeared in the east,
Perfect, it stood one foot on Grimme’s fence
The other on Richardson’s pond and my eyes worshiped
The light and the process of creation and the ability
Of the mind to carry me through this valley
Back to the road back across the grainfield
Along the edge of the water across the stone bridge
To the other side of pain left by the still winter
Until once again I had lowered my worn body
Until once again I could believe my soul would rise.
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