Weather patterns

There will come a day
when winter passes,
the slippers put away

whether or not the desires
pass with them
there is a sense of mourn

ink will dissipate
and babies weaned
from a mother’s breast.

There will come a day
where sunrise and sunset
meet; complete fecundity.

It's not been an hour
and I've traveled
miles in my mind.
A jungle, tangled
fever; all I have is my
hands in front feeling
the tension of my intertia
and it's pushback--
hanging vines.
The sloth is out of her
element: she's on the ground,
and the world said Rise and Shine.

We be traces of love, agape.







.

When All is One

Our prayers
were made public tonight,
in a pow-wow
circle we offered
Our concerns.
and in succession
they spiraled
upward,
Our stairway
to heaven
amen.








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