will pass like all years
days will become nights
seasons will bend and disappear
into forests of eternal silence
and no sun shine on the mildew of remembrances.
I left you on the pedestal of scriptures
content in your own supernal being
smiling your whimsical smile,
just a thin line of prudence,
barely enough for my soul sustenance.
I turned away
afraid that you would trick me
I love you Lord
as I have never loved anything;
for that would have been a profanity-
I turned away in haste
away from your beckoning
as your eyes chased me across
the ravines of half beliefs
terrified of letting go,
of slipping into an unknown torpor.
What I lost
now engulfs me with a yearning too late.
this year shall pass and the end of all years too.
I shall never learn to say I love you
as I have never loved anything else
though it would be true.
Seasons may bend and disappear,
sun may soak up the mildew
I may forsake the path of light
but you will ever be true.
Topic(s) of this poem: religion