God in threes A Poem by Daigneault

God in Threes

A Poem by Daigneault

Throwing Angles at the rain

It’s …

Yes

No

There

These words that cannot say

Of soil and song and joy and truth

Water knowing water

That tree thinks of time

And I live with words

A current a vale

Or light and God

At some point

I am the land and sky

Where are the words

Evading me but all around

I want the words

I need the words

Where are the words

Where?

Why not?

When?

It moves through me

All around

The warm breeze loves the autumn leaves

One but not

So I wait

A hope a prayer

Yes a prayer

Wordless, together and yet just beyond, so close, one but not, tangible, but not

Un-said un-known

Other

No we

Know we

Caged locked I see the door

You dry cold worn

She has lost so much and we can’t find a path

Old now is this the last few pages of that book she wrote

Of a life of fantasy he was on the road on those women but where was she?

I cannot look as the fire grows dim as she grows dim this bright lonely light

Was this her truest lie this life she almost had

And I on the sidelines alone throwng angel at the rain.

I cannot find tears or pain that can see this error in our basic makeup

We calmly watch as our families burn to ash

Less than ash for ash can be touched at least it has the heart to leave us filthy

They just leave and that that is left behind is not them in any way

My father called it garbage but I think it is less

How can a life end in so little

Where is true sadness

Where is the mind going why how

Please help me to find my way back to the surface

The light

Blood and fire and pain and deep pounding breaths

Beautiful breathless muscles pushed beyond their limits

Life fresh soil and sweat

Please

Please

Awake

Am I

A cross between sight and pain

The horizon I see it

And I feel it sees me

Knows me

Once again I am alive, If only for today

I come to this cross road again and again

This light is out there and I feel my mind working again and again

But I fear that monster that is just out of my vision.

His breath wet and putrid

Just a round that next corner

Always taking

A thief

But the fight goes on

I know that all is there if only I can extend my grasp

Just become strong enough to reach once again

I can see that thing that I wish to call light

But that is the wrong word

But I can see it and feel it

God in Threes.