Amber
By moofman
Sun, 12 Sep 2004
- 502 reads
Amber tree towers
sending its brown children down
Green grass cowers
in your beauty, true.
I look around and see
purity, where?
Surely not here.
Too much mud to walk unstained.
The train of my robe,
brown.
The river in front,
red.
The colors of the spectrum
mix for the illusion of white.
My God does not mix,
only cleanses.
Time waits for
no man.
But God
hopes for all.
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