eternal #4

can You find me between these spikes
the spikes that are growing in your golden fields
and as you’re walking without the sharp sickle in Your hand
and barely touching the tips with the skin of your palms
while they all are longing for your touch

I was trying to reach
but, it wasn’t my day,
yet

(maybe some other day)

when You’ll pass nearby
The King in the field.

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