Valleys

I imagine life with the premise of a thriller upended
But how do I put into perspective it’s acts and innings
If the start to this production has barely finished
And we, it’s audience, call for the finale’s beginning?

To speak with the hidden ruggedness of un-carved wood
Not bothering to hold back a tear or two as you spoke
The visceral pain of losing a child, which I intimately understood
Hearing our silent sobs that night, a sleeping god woke

Stealing a tale from last night’s finished book
We bid into the wilderness with no plans to return
In the darkness we chanced upon a willow by a brook
After hacking at this tree of faith and eunoia,
We watched our fruits of desire burn