Sunday, January 13, 2013

Be Fruitful

I knew I loved you
when we were asked to play god
With the power that was granted to me
I scourged the earth of its ore
and manipulated metals
to form towers that ruptured the golden streets above
like a tree's roots sabotaging concrete
And I thought no language barrier would confound,
only marvel and awe would persist in our domain
I put my feet up and admired my skyline
so I was too busy to see that you went to eye-level
You went in and called this place “creation,”
no possession implied
You sprouted street lights on every road and walkway
and whispered to the sand
to craft glass bulbs and to entwine metallic gossamer
and you secured them in all the right places
so no one would need to look over a shoulder
You lightened the burden of the passerby
(a side-effect of my designs)
so the seas that you tidied and swept
could provide mystery and discovery
The wind carried you to me on my perch so you could say,
“Your towers cast shadows, but now
light gives company”