According to mercy
The children of God
Run, laughing into woods
Echo pursuing
Ducking under branches
Reaching to touch the lips still wet
With breath
That sent it forth
Smashing through
Colliding with the rocks
Who sent it back
In play, in volley
Will you make it back to me again, Echo?
Taunts the ageless rock
Born to wear lichen
Face shearing and calving
As pass thousands of years
But Echo ever visits
And for chief delight
The rock like a batter
Internally winds up
And cracks the faithful Echo
Back to the lips still wet from breath
And waits.
