Gateway


When the storm has withered and you walk away,
Look up and then down and ye shall see my cloud.
Brisk but sweet I shall be and I shall shine so proud.
I shall move the winds and ye shall hear what I say.

I will take your voice and vibrate what you do pray.
I will come through you with a whisk so very loud.
I am the noises amongst every single blatant crowd.
Today, tomorrow or yesterday I was there that day.

I am inside of you and outside the court.
Bounced and planked I am the only one.
Itched and scratched I examine the port.
Faith or Grace I have just only now begun.


Time is you and time is me and I set you to my side.
I am a gateway that is so narrow or much too wide.


© Copyright: Ann Rich   2007