Afternoon Dew

Diamond strokes of
amber
stained glass windows call-
the church of God is with me again.

The God that lives in the shard behind
my ego;
the one who knows what’s right is smooth
and slow,
and curving;

Like a field of wheat
making tap dances inside my better nature,
the cup has disintegrated,
and so have I.

In the dim dull talk of others
I find the piece of genius, divine.
In the barfly memoirs I have
yet to write,
I know everything which I see
is Mine.

~ M. Lucia