Spiraling out in far-off galaxies,
a future unrecognizable,

vast and imperceptible
like the magnetic fields of earth,

subtle as the change of seasons
or the aging of a mountain,

a barely discernible shift
in how we pass each other on the street,

a knowing of belovedness,
mighty, without bounds or end,

a divine intent, heaven’s desire,
somehow weaving its root hairs

beneath our foundations, over
the heads of our politicians,

somehow, here, blossoms
in you.

December 19, 2018

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