Monday, October 26, 2009

the 23 psalm

Sometimes words flow out
In streams. Like jets of water
From the hoses by the track
Icy. Grass flavored on my
Like creeks of peace
Making rivets in my face
He restores my soul

Other times, words are beats
Drum drum drum
Stop. Stitch. Short.
Staccato dreams, like incoherent
Phrases. lost in my head or trapped in
Being trampled at breakneck speed.
Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow

Then there is
Summer in a sailboat
Stung by jellies in the
Alive places. Where dolphins
Are too shy to admit they
Stop. Start. Stop. Start.
Stucatto. Come when we sing
Sailor songs at the top of our lungs.
Now we are at the
Smoother melody for

The lord is my Sheppard. I shall not [wait till the
hose water taste and the dolphins wink]
I shall not want.

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