Day 26: 30 Poems, 30 Days

We wouldn’t recognize heaven if we saw it for ourselves.
Our vision is clouded by shadows of pretend in magazine covers
Or music videos, advertisements, tweetings and likes.
But if you peel back the clouds and gaze upon the stars
You might be overtaken by a glimpse of paradise’s back alleys
And fall back mightily into this world’s lush shag carpet.
So, too, the streets fo gold may pale those under the mesa,
Backroads of farmland, or two-tracks of forests.
Sing sweetly, then, to bring back the humble awe
Of greatness revealed in these darkly mirrored pools,
Resting in memories yet to be created.


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