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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