The Lakebed

Tomorrow weighs hard on the Now,
And the past holds me up or tears down.
But surely the choirs above with their singing of light
might lend some assurance from their astrological dance
to say something about comfort during the night.

Watch as I put words in Heaven's silent mouth,
and deceive my ears to hear
the joy and comfort that she shouts.

Tomorrow-- She shrouds herself in beauty, terrible as the silent sky.
And I, the present, now and here, stooped in darkness, gaze upward from the floor,
that she might shout a song to me that's not been sung before.

Past- the last old ragged sins that I have dragged until this end,
up to this sacred shore-- this now and here-- to cast,
at last, these sins into the lake bed deep
and sing Tomorrow's song once more.