Under the gaze of God
I gather the thoughts.
Like the grass growing tall
I slice and bring them together.
There is nothing under this sun
That enables me to stop.
I harvest the whole crop,
Leaving little blades of beliefs and fears behind.
I look at my harvested views
And separate them to see what’s important.
What are the opinions of others
And what are my own, genuine?
I restack and roll them up,
Keeping my mind clear until I need them.
They become words and lines of words,
Plucked and chewed to become this work.
© 2017 Valerie Hathaway