and stand naked before our needs and emotions,
in the place that comes before words.
with honest lips tasting, with raw nostrils smelling,
with ears laid down to listen…
and the heart to believe.
it is in these rare moments that we worship!
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the old woman,
clothes dirty and worn…lies alone in the bed,except for the cat…shadows whisper, she moans,as if closing a book.even the hungry walls are silent…the pages of the booktattered and yellowed.her teeth broken or gone,her fist clenched tight,the comfort of no one,the prayer to no god.the clock on the wall ticks amen…her spirit taken, her fist opened,a…
why does deliverance feel like
digging in the dirt?while poetry screams fromweeping willows and dead spiders…light finds it way through crack and crevice,dancing in the little boy’s palm!there is a song that dwellsin things that seem most still.graveyards come alive in the dead of night.and streetlights write historyon streets deserted and quiet.while lamps shine in closed windowsas a testament to…
cultural genocide….
stripping Native Americansof the basic rights to be….who they were, who they are!with violent force strippingculture, language, faith, andway of life…. baptizing,into colorless sameness….call it being civilized!call it salvation!call it progress! ….call it spiritual rape!
with an impotent hand
he scratches at the scabspf the exposed soul…having no soulof his own…to draw from.no fire in the nighthe sits ‘neath a neon lightand vomits commandsto the frigid and lifeless…without shadow, slowlyeaten from within…ego, and dust!
there lives….
leaves, in bare limbs.centuries inside mountains,flow within rivers….corn in the deadened earth.fire within the match,rain within the clouds.a baby in a lover’s touch….a roar within the lion.a world inside a turtle’s shell,a story in the old man’s smile.families in the cementary…oppression inside of oil.freedom, in a prison cell,hope, in the addict’s shaking hands.healing, in the…
our spirit, a tree,
and passages of living….our body, merely leaves,turning with time and passion,till they fall, crumble back to earth….and that which we have lived,fought for, and given….just hidden grains in the wood,that sing on moonlit nights!