pelting rain drip drop to a standstill
callous skies unfasten your prisoner
sound the flame of being
where death no longer burns
tonight make it right
hands in the air make sweet beats
and only just for Her
kindness her cloak woven through strands of daily attire
stars etched into flesh of palms
while the un-reached still smile because She drifts among them
with one request God “bench press my burden”
(yeah, i think that’s what she’d say)
“lift up empty tummies”
“lift up naked bodies”
“God lift up their low self-esteem”
“lift up the hopeless to land on hope”
(yeah, i know it i know that’s what she’d say)
passion in her wind
strength in her storm
you were on her mind
no hint of silence as curtains close
you dance circles i applaud encore
this was Her life.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment