Naked Triolet

O Lord, I have been left here,
to wander green paths

This gift of life you
have bestowed upon me
is filled with the bounty
of your perfect love

Yet still I wander

With your Word
as my hope
and my shield

I fail you time and time again

Desperate for your triumph
I wait for your return
        yet still I turn
In time
	I will return
In time

	I lay myself at your feet

In time

Your Word is my hope
and I offer you my faith

It is all I have to give

I know it will return
In time

As will I

I can see you in my mind
as I close my eyes
a world away,
 playing your guitar
endlessly practicing
those same few bars
the look on your face is utter
 concentration

(you don’t know that I am watching)

but I am

I am watching from my chair
in the basement
as I drift off toward sleep
you flub one of the notes
 and start again

your red fingernails float
across the frets as you press on

the song is always the same
yet I could listen to you play
through the ages

because it is your song

 and for me it is always new

I stood over the mirror
meant for a bedroom chest

But it was here now,
lying on the grass
facing the sky

At eight years old I could
hardly see why he was
leaving but here were his
things, scattered about the
lawn

Waiting to go on the truck

Looking at the mirror
I had found a comfortable
distraction

The overcast sky loomed
below me as the grass curled
around the oaken frame, curling
over the edges like the tiny
hands of the earth, clasping
it in place

Dutifully assured that
I was not to blame for his departure
I watched the sky float by

I watched the clouds meander
slowly across the pane of glass
the contours of light and dark
flowing through them

I wondered how far away they
were and I saw myself reaching
down through the mirror
and grabbing hold

Catching a ride across the sky

In the far right corner of the
glass I saw a break forming in
the clouds

illuminating my world,
turned upside down

something blue
was easy enough to find
digging through an old drawer
somewhere in the back room
of my mind

rummaging through memories
and histories and psychic lint
everything tinted that
melancholy color

I tossed her a sad story
I had read
when I was happy
and she fastened it
to her stocking
just below the knee

more difficult
but only slightly was
concealing a borrowed
ocean of regret in the
tails of her dress
which left a trail
of puddled sorrow
where she walked

my distracted eyes
would follow them
forever wondering
if I should stoop to
sop them up

though I never did

in her eyes she wore
the new light of the
sanguine dawn hung low

spilling the horizon
across the day

but they were hidden by her
painted veil
painted with a song as
old as planets
old as the sun
old as stars

as old as the night that fell