Joan Russell
Accept this clay vessel
As a token
Of the unspoken.
Within
You will find sin
But also you
May find what is true
And good
To be understood
And pray
At the end of day
With your pure heart
For him who walked apart
On the hills
Loving life's miracles
Of stone and grass
And the ecstatic caress
Of wind in the face.
Round the bends of old roads
He expected God's
Angels to appear
And so my dear
Joan
He was mostly alone
And lonely and sad
On hill and road
And so Joan Russell
He wanted to nestle
In the warm clay
Of Time's everyday.
Maybe God will
Show him that miracle
