The Preacher

Ink onto paper,
Tongue licking lip,
Then running through the fields,
Falling as I trip.
A final chord strikes,
A raindrop in the yellow flower -
A moment of beauty
Is a moment of you.


Within lies an age
Gone. Couldn't wait.
Reaching, clutching, grasping -
The last straw floats
Away. Today and yet.
There is now and there will be
Within us - forever.
Holding and being held.

We only gain what God gives.