“Getting Ready”

Sweet love hovering above your dreams
The angel rises everywhere, it seems

A sticky arrow stings from the quiver, bringing forth a note to deliver

A towering tree stands early and grand, covering the 100 years it’s life has spanned

A landscape spoke in a quiet flash
When suddenly a mile a minute blinked her every eyelash

The intense bullet chased a fleeting arrow
he stood close like a woodshed storing a beat-up Camaro

Springing ready he is confident of the resurrection
His voice has pitched, you can here it in the inflection

A tablecloth has been set, it ached still and steady

A fleeting caterpillar flew by when he realized he wasn’t ready