Flight of light-bearer into the night,
Come unto soul of me with your wisdom,
Engulf my spirit until I hear it moan,
Until I hear it cry out & weep,
Until my demons inside are put to sleep,
Loan me your essence freely & still away the pain of battle,
Unfurl in a Universe of spinning worlds,
Pique my sense of recompense & slant this chant of dreams,
Darkening clouds are pressing against an unholy blue,
& a gospel of crows from the fields sing their daily devotion in D-minor,
There is pressure in my lungs Father, for I have sinned,
A thinness of air, shallow with grief,
& I am emptied of belief that there lies any beauty in a woman who wears two faces,
& I am perhaps a shadow, a ghost,
A previous apparition or future prediction,
A grey blemish on an ultrasound wishing to be born again,
Will you fill the emptiness in my mind
With more knowledge than I can find
& clear humanity, free me from the bondage of sin??
Will you fill the absence in my arteries
With an arperture of threnody
& two-thirds red ink so I can bleed verse on the pages of my skin??
Streaming through my core, I abhore,
That from your light flows the shine of newness,
Sparked in an age of ignorance,
Where bliss-filled wrongs have become right,
I ask-
Re-birth me a poet, Father,
Turn my eyes East past spent home & collective sighs,
That I might write the measurement of trust found in the wind,
& stand beside me, us two, barefoot among wilted petals,
So I can touch the labouring ground
& hope to some day be found
Worthy of walking among the peaceful dead,
Father, cup hands to my ears, that I may hear-
The flute songs echo in distant valleys of valediction,
The crackling sounds of a doe & fawn sojourning in the forests,
The call of a hummingbird rising among the forgiving rustle of leaves,
Re-birth me a poet, Father,
& I shall write the meaning of the moon,
It's pure white soul forever hanging on,
& I shall write of the stars, how brilliantly the shine,
Where they go to rest come the dawn,
Flight of light-bearer into the night,
Come unto the soul of me with your wisdom,
Engulf my spirit until I hear it moan..
So this car selling thing is not your calling. Stick to this. Congrats it a nice piece of work.
ReplyDeleteHaha unfortunately, so it seems :D
DeleteThank you, it's the first of many to come :)
Maya Angelou would've been proud much of you :)
ReplyDelete+254 is prouder o' you :)
I'm proudest :D