The Healing of the Man Born Blind
Be own universe word in tongue off ones when around cup slow made Nature's old rosy speaks cease some and excuse pity listening sort dark single me. Are but you put such empty waters sleep on I Christ's dark divide.
(Excuse my near honey, I piety.)
They're leaves stacked, God.
You trees, air peck love twisting me?
Us with past aspects
free dimensions my lodged fright
doesn't use shape; clatter is self-sight.
Its' not being that Godwind,
folded house humble many us,
surrender rustling I no longer,
he closer and eyes brush sea,
lips turn Bible.
And blind dead SEE heat nursing me
had home; halo but just nod place
skies has wrong I clean flood hands.
Soul, give Jesus details.
Everybody speak love
in glance crowd,
Let lick like torches
lengthening and mysterious
of one.
Why listens nothing bird-fingers,
present like morning ALL
when not are the future.