Too Late



A world upended –

oh, how the mighty are fallen! –

will crash at the slightest touch,

the simplest negation of a nod. How


did her sphere of influence

shrink so small? How came this

significance unsignified? No

neurons carved integrated


pathways, nor relational

infrastructure; all looked

inward, mirror to a tiny

galaxy. Too, too late for

microcosm to expand at the

speed of living’s light; too, too

root-bound to escape the pot.

When molecule drops,


so will all expectations

into the river of the forgotten,

the scum to earthen pond’s

hoary crust of the damned.

Frozen Lava


Frozen lava, heart imprisoned,

Groaning ‘neath its bitter chains.

Winter threatens its extinction,

Freezing hope that dares remain.

Volcanism’s flow resurges,

Only to be petrified;

Magma’s tender chambers stiffen,

lock the gift of warmth inside.


For more on this topic, visit my sister blog at Growing With God in my Garden