Strands of keratin
They slide between my fingers and I think
Where were we, Love, when this small space at the end of the lengths were new
Emerging like buds of Spring from scalp and skin?
Was it before the dark of January 1st?
Perhaps it was Christmas, eight months ago, maybe more
When you took me to see the blue and yellow lights
And we held Hot Chocolate between our gloves and sang hymns
And all at once in my mind
Climbing Churchill, I flee God’s presence
A war unseen
The skirmishes crop up now and then
Flares in the night
After perhaps, too brief a respite
The battle rages on in fits and starts and stops, circular, cyclical thoughts
Shell blasts and mustard gas, earth blown to bits and lungs poison-kissed
You see, there are other strands
They twist between the fingers of God, not mine, Love
I know if I held them, I’d warp them to my will
Force and declare a healing like a child demanding treats
May it never be!
I’ll only name Jesus and claim His will!
And then, all at once, the dawn consumes the fog
And the Hound devours the Dog