At 3:16

At 3:16


The bright places are haunts of darkness

however high the climb.

The north face cracks from water,

wind blasting wherever it wills,

wherever it comes from and

wherever it goes. Lichen grows

on our flesh with each climb


as our lives cling between above and below,

horizon and summit, crack after crack.


Who can see the Kingdom of sky

with afterbirth crusting the eyes?


Faith is gripping the cracks of our lives.