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And in the time of supposition We were weary for a few The working wheel And signs to ransom A day of pages like before A prayer for peace For feeding first to Beckham The litmus of a daygood And in this column,- thirty voids An Ark of the Covenant For Geert Wilders to atone And in this dying hour The lights refused to dim For the Good Lord And letting last to fieldsright Preternaturally decayed But all the wooden collections And the sturdy ones denote A place for Earthen Heaven And in it to avoid As the days are made for good And in this verse were lines Of the uncontaminated view That God is good to land And great to better seas And in a line of Crosses Perchance to see Saint Peter Adjusting to the schism Of the stalwart incantations And in this poem, an America That is bursting at the seams Of a dream for Oprah Winfrey Days of flight unto the night And every golden sister Has a drop of Mothers’ land- the only noise, abound Freedom tines in air For near to fortune time forgot In separated view This September to the stream Of every mannequin’s name Shall be blessed into the fold

I sit and nightly view The forms and future words And dreams, and stalls of gear In the separations of time For broken hearts to beat Every fragrant will and rose- and I adore the forms of depth To a star unto its range The polylacrymal Sun Fighting views unto the Henge And days do not infer to wreck The Son of Man upon a ship For all the distant passages Of their Holiness of time- of great departure And of Christ Jesus- Celebrant of creation If the mighty blackened locks Innovations free and bare A fissure to the leaf would happen fast- in lights if too much Heaven But never they- our honest World And beguiling sense of Wonder Distant Women And a song for better free- Heights of weight and worship ever Raptured then To Her night of trystic joy And off in ten To Chicago’s year of wheat And tribulations- But we hear And cast despondence Insofar as knowing every June There is distance unto our walk And every Man can solify These days are meant for Blackness And futures, and escape Barren lands to heave with rain In nine steps out of ten We were with her- and still know The aching of a star Dispossessed of heights of mutiny To her as much as more In mystery ten and then The Persephone and a floor Rigs for light and ship The sound of Earth and solemn Away with every star To the Good Women clad in wise Bearing Winter afraid And in the night unsure Turning to God’s Children Who will count one Oprah Winfrey Always standing nights in Gayle, Coretta, and Luther King Every drop of Earthen Water Filling hands of grateful then Today is unaccounted For the souls of Christ at will In barren dust to Dover Lighting stars to form and see Hallowed journey to this talk- of expectations And experience And of land becoming full In solemn flame And made of Water And the supplication free On our journey to this side Where days are rife And sustenant breathing Escaped to here- our land for us And a joy- to solemn roads And this is what we have And share to Royal as the Other Witness, Lord, of us In flying high The clouds of effervescence Light the isle- and what is right And offer downpour- for the livid- who will not see the sky- as Oprah would- and just for you And we will walk on- on this day as men will render- verdant bliss Into our own To solemn be And hopeful here Chicago keeping For this land..

..In solace and prayer For peace and gratitude Light of Heaven- Christ the Lord First and last In all who seek.