God In Waiting

First stages of a sublime death

Nature is a good in time.

.,.

Here, the forgetfulness is sweet

On a younger face, like pollen

Fallen from thin wings of a dying species.

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The surprising dimensions of the bull ant, and the shadow of a passing tree

Make sweet honey of this minute.

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For half an hour, I pray in the few ways I can. God, nature in time. This evening

Won't arrive for a while

Drenched too in sweet eucalyptus' honey. An early dying, but a slow death.

.,.

In this world there is night

And in the air, the whispers of varied ghosts,

Spirits and beings in it recycled. I pray the only way I can,

Which is not a prayer.

.,.

A dream feels hard to say

but a dream is all that it is.

For this passing comes early today, but comes every night.