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Retreat Poem 1

Picture
A prayer written before bed
 
From you, from you
I cannot run,
As no spot on earth
Escapes the sun.

Such is my given lot,
Like it or not.
But do I wish to flee,
To hide soul, body?

I could sink my mind
In a chemical stew,
Or bury my bones in dirt
To buffer from you.

But every cup I sipped,
You'd have already lipped.
Under every blanket of death,
You'd have taken breath. 

Is there a joy in your insistence
To be everywhere we go?
Is there love in the persistence
To stalk us above and below?


I pray it so; I pray it so.
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