Crappy poem I wrote the other day. I'm feeling devastated. Bad news never sits well with me.
Emanate! and relish the emination
How very Emerson.
My mouse tracks on moose tracks
shaded by human trees with deep roots
and small trees owing to human routes.
God might not be visible in an MRI or telescope but His will is there.
And the faith in Him inspires me so.
I happened upon divinity
by studying a single raindrop's luminence
jazzed with earth-based wisdom,
Seeds sledding on the wind.
Bullied by walls and lack of privacy in the backyard,
I train to find the wild again.