By the rivers of twighlight
sifted through panes of stars
I sit in the certain glow
of the immensity I have chosen
this pretty flow of glory
in my veigns, surely it is a sign
that in God I must
become all they were not
By the dawn of awakening I see
that somewhere deep within
he and God must commune
with angels and devils alike
to decide the most important fate
of those tiny hands and feet
the little nose and lips
should they quiver with passion
for life and truth
or press gently with love for all
or will the wicked carry us away
By the rivers of coming life
I'm stunned with the utter weight
of your little heart
acting as chorus
to my long-ago
stuttered
beat.