Why did the hymns fall to whispers?
worshipping hands collided with the floor—-
mere insects, praising forgotten crumbs.
i was there too, an ant begging the sun to reconsider.
When did the music stop resonating
when did the words stop meaning
anything at all?
We still seek out each other’s souls
when I drive down back roads
when the moon is hidden by clouds,
when we meet again
our spirits will mix seamlessly
We will compose a divine song.
