Valley

have I fallen asleep at the gate?

in he came, crashing pillars and

pouring pots of soil, seed, and flower.

for the first time in

my life his whispers heeded,

and scripture turned to poison

and the promise of new life

a frightful thing behind

a heavy curtain.

who have I been named today?

I have not met him,

and pray His promise to the

one sheep run up the mountain.

Oct. '07