THE SUN WRITES BACKWARD

Cords of water, released from fragile envelopes

The sun has filled out a prescription

The blessings that first come with

A belief only those before the second can explain

The rain is now dry, and our deeds have overtaken the smell of the earth

It’s back to the beginning, the envelope is seeking its refill

The sun is writing a new prescription

Patiently, we wait for nature’s course

For a journey that started before time was set

But we wait

Because those that came before the third called it a season

But wait we must

Does the sun write slow?

Its time for those after the previous, to explain

But their language is loose

Those with the gift of indenting have their tongues tied

But wait we must

Maybe we were not waiting all along, it was happening, but we caught on too slow

The truth, THE SUN WRITES BACKWARDS


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