Lent — day twenty-two

They’re looking for the gold in you,
panning all your streams.
They’re hoping what’s been told is true –
that silence rests in golden beams.
They’re sitting in the weight of you –
feeling it down deep.
Their fingers search for morning dew,
even as they’re fast asleep.
Their eyes won’t shut for anything.
They won’t stop gulping rain.
They’re waiting for a wedding ring
to hold them through the pain.
So come back to this waiting land,
come and sing your song;
their hands are stretched to find your hand,
hands only wait so long.

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