Sun Rain Sun

One yellow road runs through this prison

Sun rising east to west strung

Pearls of anchorites. Sighing women 

Sick with incurable maladies of the soul.

I need nothing more than to walk yellow grid 

Slow under shielding Oak trees lining cell blocks 

Cream and Hunter Green. 

Rain so often does create an 

Atonement road. Wearing the blue stigmata 

Is not the same as weeping, no precious tear 

Remains undried in the yellow piercing sun. 

My way is made from east to west 

Where there is sun rain sun at the 

Same time not the same in each place 

Only can it be felt in the whole.