Winter Song

Write me
a poem like the early spring, pluck
me a chord like a green flower-stem.
Open the dance where we know all the steps
to these known tunes that never will end.

Weave me
a curtain to let in the light. Cast
me a rainbow without any dye.
Spin me a question without an exam
and sit open beneath this expanse.

Twinkle
a star for me up in the sky. Grant
me a Balaam to thwart and reply.
Sing me a lyre that can silence a Saul.
Spring me a poem that will never upend.
Pray me a bottomless ever Amen.

Published by Matthew Pullar

Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.

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