Don’t feed on tears, little one,
don’t feed on tears.
Ignore the call of ash and dust,
and overwhelming fears.
Shush, quiet when the dark
comes, and stifling heavy rain,
Don’t let it cloak and bind you,
with bitterness and pain.
Hush my child, reach for Jesus,
listen to His call,
and His blessing is upon your life
when you feebly call.
Solemn council has it’s downfalls,
feet plant on his filtered sightings,
Animation is key,
swarovski crystals in the eye.
mistaken as that angel of light,
still God’s council will stand.
Pander golden tongue, your bargains sprinkled with desperation’s manic song;
quiet prayer breathed, exhaled,
generous his deed,
the cold heart turns.
Soot and slime,
slowly blanket landscape.
Clenched fist strikes the ground-
Yet there are kindnesses still-
our pocket watch
crawl to boundaries
where dew has sprinkled-
throw off prisms
From the sun that rises on the just
and the unjust.
Speaking of thick-knit
shadows, sweaters draped on chairs-
mine the beam of joy.
Bitter, young, and strange-
cleave, caress, combine as one
with sanguine; mature, common.
(I think it began with me looking at my feet)
Shuffle into the labyrinth, size ten feet with crooked big toes;
(stay in your lines, count-check-count-check-count-check)
square-lined linoleum, occasional course corrections into walls-
I think maybe i left my mind in the corners-
with the snickering dust-bunnies and saltine crumbs?
(Dang it, lost count- begin again, by fours, count-check-count-check and hop!)
This live, shadowed well
Tin bucket dips, scoops, fetches
Brimming with water.