Let it Come
“Let it come
suddenly, because the field
must have it: wildpeace.”
Let it come from these ancient hills
that once were vast and cold as the sky.
Let it come bubbling from aquifers
buried deep beneath cave mouths.
Let it come as rain, gentle in early spring,
or wild, as summer scratches and clings
to the rustling trees. Let it come in blizzards
or in fog. Let frogs announce its coming.
Let it slip around us like night,
carry us unaware past the boundary of dreams.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Steve Klepetar
would be pleased to hear them.