To Make A Ring

Upon reaching a certain kind of plateau,

taking stock of what we do and do not know.

Battle it out against reason, rocks, and drifting snow.

Back down the hill, we go. Let's go.

Hey ho. 

<<----->>

About the other side?

It was quite a ride.

They told me to hide 

and hide 

and hide

and 

stand my ground, against the tide. 

So? I tried. 

<<------->>

On nighttime star-scapes, my wishes cast

All I could ever ask, I fling across the inky vast

I capture my star, at last, in twirling net, so fast.

I capture my twinkling Little Star up on the mast. 

At long last;

vessel to port. 

Repast. 

<<----->>>

He prepares the table before me 

in the presence of mine enemies.

He runs my cup to overfull, the brim is ruby red with wine

We raise a glass to the end of time. 

I twist my words into this rhyme.

As for God?

He doesn't look down on me, but rises up

through soles of sandalled feet.

In sun, in heat

in the face of utter defeat.

God's thresh is upon me; like the chaff and the wheat.

<<--->>>

Polished stones are a sight to behold

Eons of time; trinkets of gold

I could never be so bold

To assume the diamonds in the rough

Are anything but mighty tough

Even as they sparkle on proverbial hands

Even though we tear apart the land

To see them sparkle on human hands. 

<<----->>

To get a glimpse of God-made things

You could make a ring

Out of just about any thing.

A wire. 

A root. 

A vine. 

A song. 

Or even–

just a piece of string.