Pity scripture,
never quite
actual rapture,
never quite
so not it
doesn’t tug.
It’s not
enough.
You go rote.
Hours thin,
air stills,
ends diminish
into endings.
When that
happens,
remember
it happens,
and go perhaps
to the pond
to make
a branch
a boat,
some leaves
the crew,
and drift
the journey.
Then make
the boat
your body,
the crew
your loves,
and the journey
the meaning
scripture
hints at: why
when we know
this day
will be
forgotten,
we still sail.