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TITLE: Lonely Places By Tyler Petty 05/29/07 |
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But demons live there, too.
Away from the clanging strangling living,
Under the sun-soaked blue blanket so thick
You can’t think of anything else—
All the places where the demands of
Manufactured life become unexpectedly comical,
When night is naturally dark and
Day is unmediated by windows or walls—
Among the moving postcards and animal concerts
That make meta-distinctions meaningless:
Demons live there, too,
Peeking and whispering
Around the edges of all the good things.
God fights everywhere for our attention,
Whether in the city
Or through the solitary,
Where voices that sound like our own
Remind us of what could be true
And try to convince us
Of the past’s persistent power.
Just like God does,
They know how much we can hear
When we are quiet.
They depend on them—
On our times in the wilderness—
Just as much as we do.
One voice is always speaking.
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