Tithe Barn

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Braced by the arms of Thor,
thunder-structured,
rumpus-rumped
and oak butchered,
stone sutured ark
Walk wide the doors,
bring in bounty,
bow to the gathered,
bank the belly’s wealth.
Dole all sustenance,
gift, grain, gratitude
But see, the rat has come.
One, and then another one,
eats beliefs
and gnaws all reverence.
Voids to memory
the once plenty
hallowed hollows
swept – empty
Ghosts of our grains
in raftered dust,
barns to bookmarks
for the National Trust,
hungers designed
not to be sated,
harvests hedged
not celebrated,
shrink-wrapped blue dot
use by dated:
midnight
tick, tick, tick...
Up goes the call:
a new barn for all
Life builders graft,
rapt in their craft
Rapture of light
begets flower
begets seed
Cycles chameleon
waste to feed
Come eat and store
enough, no more
then tithe
To tomorrow
with two open palms
and a smile