Just because a cup is overflowing
doesn’t mean the well
from which it’s drawn
will spring eternal
These clouds above
in a blistered sky
lead me to beg
and groan for God
because I can see us
scrambling back to Eden
as new shapes take form
edging the path toward heaven
This spell of sweat
will wipe my brow
and wash the eye
where dreams alight
to spill their signs
of vision upon the soil
These beanstalks grow
in an arid land
with help from roots
that seek no fame
because their fortune comes
from work that’s done
behind the scenes
when no one else is watching
Just because there’s magic in every moment
doesn’t mean the miracle
that creates the blessing
should be taken for granted