GARNER

Sun high and hot and unforgiving
Roadside sick with jacaranda's violet bloom
This is the season of my burning
Better I burn the chafe than await wild fires
Lone I garner the poor harvest sown
 
And the Mother says to the child
 
When your word you have broken
When lies are all you've spoken  
You shall not be broken
 
When you have caused only pain
When pain became a lonely game
You shall be salved of pain
 
When you have given up your very faith
And followed the ignoble wraith
You will be found by faith
 
When all you have gained you have taken
When a-spelled and can not waken
Thou shalt not be forsaken  
 
And I shall hold you close to my breast
These hills and clouds and
Scrub you clean in your falling rain
Immaculate  
 
Again said the Mother to the child
Again said the child