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christian poetry

el relámpago destellaba, y levantó
le cuento con
cuando la noche mandila a lo largo de las calles de la ciudad
debajo de la luna de la cosecha
mi alma es un campo arado oscuro
ella oyó a niños el jugar en el sol
le estoy cantando
en su tienda guardada
cuando era adaptó Londres
antes del santo de bronce solemne
el elevar, como el viento sopló
este tazón de fuente de plata antiguo el míos
ésos en el superior dicen que le conocen, tierra -- son mentirosos
viejo vino a beber

 



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