Wind,

I cannot see you,
But I see your path,
Your footprints,
What you do.
As you shake hands
With the trees.
As you ride belly up
Through the rustled weeds.

These give you away,
Show you.

It is the same with God.

A fool will say seeing
Is believing, will say
Proof is everything.
This one should have
No problem, then,
Kickin’ off shoes
In a gas chamber,
Lyin’ down with
Peace in still waters,
As the ghosts of the
Water prepare to feast.

One day the blind fools
Will see.


--Aug. 4, 2009--
© 2009 vagrant moon