The Circle

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I can trace a circle around my world.
Black like coal, bold like chill in winter.
Like a bridge contrasting the dark water
On a shameless evening. Sunset splinters
Then turns black as the line again.

I can trace a circle around our feet
Bare against the gray cement. Ten
Toes of yours, ten of mine. Creeping
Along the endless dusky circle, when
Under the streetlamp at last we are caught.

I can trace a circle around my prison.
Windows as steel bars that reveal
The scarlet letter bold as blood.
Black as demons my grief is sealed.
And the line between my feet runs deep.

I can trace a circle around my memories
The grass in spring, my feet bare,
Uncovered and alone. Through seasons,
The night has had a conquered reign but I tear
The scepter from its grip at last.

I can trace a circle around my life,
My heart is torn with fear of future, love
Of present now, and longing for my King.
For what may pass and fail within my circle,
Forever’s vow remains:

That I cannot trace a circle around eternity.

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