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Click hereFire crackling ~ embers burning
Little sparks wafting
in the torrent of heated air,
rising
A vortex
a place
a whirlpool
Sometimes One looks down and sees
crystal waters shoaling
and often the Sun
glints like diamonds
off the white capped tips of cresting waves
mayhap the wheeling singularity,
those self same vertices and that jumbled matrix
Twisted and shorn
Lovingly the hand
runs over skin freshly
bereft and forlorn
hair today and gone again
who would have thought,
Taken and riven
those sightless eyes watching.
Does He need to ken
Nay He knows it already.
Harried fingers rubbed raw
Strings taken
pulls attempted
works Only on those
who think in a rut
immured by experience
to be a way
Who knew what He did
she certainly didnae