More Are The Children

The Ancient Modern

More Are The Children  /  Joshua Alan Sturgill         

I see
the unreachable heaven
within my soul.

What then can I be
but waiting?  

until the seed 
sends up roots to secure me, 
branches to feed me?

Since you said I love you
there is only one religion 

             — a Sahara
of nothing and your words, of
stone and light.

I do not accept my ignorance. 
How can existence 

not embrace? 
How can consciousness 
not know?

All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2022 by Joshua Alan Sturgill. All rights reserved.