Pending

by Gary Yoder

In the jagged
throat of rock
I lie bound by perfumed cloths.
Why do you call me
then hide the way;
What do you want from me
here in this place of my dying?

The vault of stony silence
once safe when you delayed,
echoes.
Is it I you want,
all languid and limp;
my hands unhurried and reaching not,
my heart at rest and beating not?
What do you want from me
here in this place of my dying?

Gary is a composer, artist, poet, and photographer, pursuing beauty and the healing of his Father’s world through the arts.

Photography by Kenneth Godoy