
seventy seven –
too many times to forgive
without divine aid

seventy seven –
too many times to forgive
without divine aid

our lives are too short
will any of this matters
in a million years
the only thing that remains
the Truth that is here and now
a stream of white lights
coming to vanishing point
where the red lights flow

cold rain pausing at the fence a rabbit

just wondering if
under the right conditions
we’d all have halos