The first tick of time
An abandoned water mill of some sort.
Trussed like a character in a movie spoof,
I’m just coming to, thirty feet of rope sheathing my body;
a bandanna gagging my mouth; my protruding hands
bound and arranged in prayer.
I’m not asking God for anything anymore.
God has answered my heartfelt prayer already.
He just so rarely ever gives me what I desire
which is never what I lack
but just another loop of the rope.
Swift, deep and final is the river
but even the decision to fall into it
is not mine to make. So
I linger above,
making a poor effort to live without effort,
hoping to forego all hope but only after I acquire
a mighty enough patience to last the rest of eternity.
O child, everything, everything, is and was
ordained by God in the first tick of time.
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