I did not ask you to forgive me
only sit with me in a field

sit with me and pray

watch the black grass turn green
morning sleeps on the other side of the river

you notice the soft feathers
of the swallows

you fallowed them alone
found fields more fit for prayer

my hands are bleeding
I shall leave you messages
on the white rocks
so you may find your way back to me

I hope one day you'll read them
and know

I still have not forgiven myself