Dear Darkening Ground

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You’ve endured so patiently the walls we’ve built

perhaps you’ll give the cities one more hour

and grant the churches and cloisters two.

And those that labor—let their work

grip them another five hours, or seven,

before you become forest again, and water, and widening wilderness

in that hour of inconceivable terror

when you take back your name

from all things.

Just give me a little more time!

I want to love the things

as no one has thought to love them,

until they’re worthy of you and real.