(free google image)
My knees are made of rivers.
Not my own, but I do not know it,
Private landings synchronizing
limb to limb.
My womb is spirit-
My womb is spirit.
A window onto its own
dawdling stride in rhyme
through war zones.
Rivers bending backward
but I do not know it,
Shallow, unheard, rushing- faster
I tell her to slow down; she does not hear the groundbreaking.
Her windows are made of oolong feet,
And she must,
Walk to zion.
Poetry Krissy Mosley
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A Poet's Vision 
“And she must walk to zion.” Mustn’t we all?!!!! Beautiful work here!
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thank you kindly Loristrawn Happy Sunday with care 😉 Yes indeed we must all walk to Zion….
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Reblogged this on CELONA'S BLOG and commented:
You just can’t ignore this..
Great piece 😉
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wow thank you truly my hat off to you….
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bless 😉
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Followed you on twitter, kindly follow back
Great work on the blog, keep the work going ;-D
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ok will do, thank you for the reblog and comments means a lot …. blessings to you with care Krissy 😉
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😉
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