I do not worry about the past

That holds the future hostage

I cannot speak so fast

My mouth is filled with porridge

My deeds, like a knife in the woods

Haunt all things so good


Emerging clouds sweeping the sun

Freezing the air once warm

I was made to be a city set on a hill

Too obvious to be hidden

I was created as light

Shining forth in darkness

I was modeled as an oasis

Bringing succor in the desert

I waited in vain

My expectations all washed in the rain

My groaning like the sound of the birds

Whispering in their nests

Guilt enveloping my heart

Sealing off the prayer of my lips

The master said all things hath become


And his kingdom was within me

Even if the terrors of the day

Found their way to my place

I saw death as the beginning of the life

A procession of the distant skies

Kissing the plants on the ground

I am tired of searching for meaning

In things so fickle

So, I open my ears to sound & find the right words

Sins waiting to be made pure by the blood

Eyes of the spirit waiting to be enlightened

Tongues waiting to speak languages unheard

I was born whole

Unknown to the things of the flesh

My Lord’s duty is to make little things

Soar till they become law

I write my acts into a book

Not a book of life

I let it grow into an essay

Till they became words

Free from the emotional torture of good or bad.






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