Up here in this atmosphere
Above the poking, choking
smoke and
All the listless, fistless
mist that
Wants to take my breath away,
I’m content to wait and watch
The hapless, notchless
goings-on,
The mindless, spineless
nowhere songs
The people chant each day.
Grace has found me humming
tunes,
Crooning croons on higher
ground,
Leaping bounds not set by man
Onto the grand plateau
Where air is sweet as
sassafras
And feet have never wrinkled
grass,
Where honey flows and longing
grows
To heights nobody knows.
Somewhere in this atmosphere
The word is hidden dark and
deep.
Keys to unlock every door;
Promises to keep.
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