Revelations was easy enough
for him to understand
the abundance of sagebrush
which is closer to wormwood
than the culinary sage, always
reminded him of the starry angel
who would make its presence
known at the end of the world
and the endless horizon on such
spacious stretched homeland
gave him a sense of the world's end
for couldn't he fall into eternity
just beyond the shifting sandhills
couldn't the world turn upside down
and he drift into the enormous
blue bowl always held overhead
couldn't the relentless winds fill
his sails to carry him into the bright
summer night sky filled with dying lights
all these revelations were better
written on his flesh in life-inflicted
scars, in debilitating trauma that
causes him to pause at different moments
to ponder the wonder of what's next
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