Choreographed in complexity
Dark yet
Heavy tones spiraling out with exhausted sighs
doxology

White life speeds unimpeded by lights, flashes
History on their side
Fear not pulsing
Violently staying in their lanes, views
Blind and asleep.
#Racism #MartinLutherKing #WakeUp
The Hat is fit by heads, a tool of weighty stuff
Mighty high and mystical
power placed upon.
It is not stuck forever there but easily retired
Thoughts expand the wearing soul
The Hat is lifted off.
thumbprints press hard
on the outer part to shape shift being
into a failed construct
facade
hiding a soul looking for the light behind
to dispel shadows and such
searching for life beyond the creep of forced ideals
into everlasting peace
Lighting the path beyond,
the moon leans toward a fate larger than death,
the eastern sun bullied by looming clouds of day.
Life speaks daily in the rise and fall–
hope wrapped in even the darkest morn.
It’s that time of life when gentle and innocence fall
the eyes of the deer go dark
while the heart of sporting egos reign.
We all feel broken a bit
and generations suffer generations.
As foot prints in the snow crush the buds beneath
we all stay hungry for peace.
I saw it whipped
waving above
nearly alone
holding on.
I saw the cords
life surging on
from ground to stem attached.
Then off balance
in twinkling light
I heard a breath
release…
past all the others hanging still
a twirl and dance, a northern front
leaving ties
the shackles gone
and falling free at last.
When life is taken
Time stops
Reverses even
Memory cradles Moments
Mistakes and
Madness
Hear then the chimes awaken
All souls
Forgiven en mass
Resurrected
Kissed
Death to life imagined
Even in the darkest waters
Energy lurks
Enduring time
Enlisting seasons of change
To spark the flow.
Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Pexels.com Robinson, Marilynne. Gilead (Oprah’s Book Club) (p. 7). Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Kindle Edition.
Bone cold
shiver
wanting a way to warm
forgotten
drafty doors but solid walls
shaken
within the embers burned