The Final Scripture Poem by Barry Middleton

the final scripture is silence
where poets delve for jewels of peace

a clay crown that might in eons hence
come to dazzle the ages

oh it is not yet written
it rests in a yellow field in autumn

it waits for stars to claim it
it comes of loam and wind and time

scripture is a voice from the forest
where waters move on rock

it is a tensile filament of aspiration
as touch gives way to sight and word

it knows the tenderness of a kiss
it praises spring and laughter

it is an animal but something more
the spirit seeking something to adore