i’ve got a creeping suspicion
that all the love i sent spinning off unrequited
was really meant for You
and that the pain of beauty
is in truth merely the hesitant-lash flutter
as my soul-eyes catch a transient glimmer
of that which they were designed to see
promise me that i can stop crawling soon
for my legs ache to run with horses
and i’m sure i was created with the capacity to soar
if only You would teach me how
instead in Your divine wisdom You lead me
stumbling up mountains backwards
with nothing to show the way
but the extrapolated hope of the path i’ve traversed
so help me hold this in my mind
this half-remembered glimpse
of a glorious future when the wrecking-ball of time
will shatter all these broken images
and the shadowlands wherein i dwell
will be forsaken forever after