in thunder's roll,
so often...

we extoll,
the virtues...
of the softened sky;

as clouds do drift
in tattered patterns gone awry,

when, for a while,
time moves slower...
seconds ever crawling by...

caught up in the breath of trees
that lower branches,
swaying,
praying,
as if knelt
upon their gnarled knees;

repentance felt;
within the humble breeze.

the restless leaves -- aware...

of me...

simply standing there;

a key...

a witness
to the hidden saffron sun;

as clouds make dark
the once-enlightened bark
of these...
that stand so bold and stark;

the sentinels that guard our way;
as we await our judgment swift,
and face the storm
of yet another day...

convinced that light shall
overcome the dark...

and evil,
shall be kept at bay;

as grace, like fire,
shall distance leap...

and scorch the heavens
with undying glow;

a promise that
forever He will keep,

to burn away the
heavy clouds;

and unburden those, His own,
who then shall never sleep...

the Chosen Ones...
who know:

that what we sow,
will be exactly

what we reap.

Copyright (c) Jeff Mason