God Seizing the Natural World of Caverns (and Me)

Dedicated to the partitioned vision of God
and smoky fumes of friends, long past

“You’ve earned this right,” They say,
learning just as much about hospital beds,
taken stations like strident log cabin rocks,
tempting to stay and explain it all, in Her town

“Where will you go,” They challenge
though I admit to not knowing the outcome,
sadly refurnishing the outcrop of stationary-
lumber where stealthy engines learn privacy-dances

“Extremes at the lumber edge” on the far off rain,
cosmopolitan grace-scopes in absolved stallway
like speaking treasures made of love, and God is seeing
fire on the golden turning open rope bookstand ends-ways

“Your trajectory is uncertain,” fires back God,
like an unroped hero calling up from my stomach
“Dare to be absolved,” God punishing me, “untrue,”
“Walk into the path straightened for you,” He says,
He is also near and speaking as one with Her, now
together apart from the stopping, shrinking natural world