“An Engine against the Almighty” —George Herbert, Prayer (1)
We wrestle, gentle Jehovah, gentle beast, or rather ring bearer, keeper of dirt and sleet under streetlights. A kingdom, weightless, entrusted to the white palms of a child. A garden with a certain desert distance, an angel interference: this late-night duel. I know the sound of wind as well as I know the remnant of your footprint. Or is that the mark of my knees in the dirt?
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