Allow our prayers to be radical and tenacious…
written and spoken by the author of this blog…
Allow our prayers to be radical and tenacious…
written and spoken by the author of this blog…
So we stop,
and hear what the spirit has to say.
We are the branches, I’ll take my body to the altar
lay my body on the altar, encapsulate my tears on this altar
let oxygen move around
O’God revive the laughter of my soul
revive the hope of growing old,
revive the rivers flowing in my belly,
revive the tongues of my trees,
revive my spirit, my eyes that I might see
revive my heart ,my former dreams, revive the latter rain in me
revive the years from whence I came
revive each connective hymn and let me pray,
revive the cartilage in my knees,
revive my prayers- O’ God
we take our bodies to this altar
…
there are all night prayers in mama’s house
all night meetings before you sleep,
we stop,
and hear what the spirit has to say
kindness sister Krissy
While the Darkness is still breaking through
God we surrender
in this valley of dry bones
you understand the heartache, the brokenness
and yet and still…
after we have done all that we can do,
to stand,
God,
we surrender,
and declare the Glory of the Lord
Blessings of health, blessings of wealth, blessing of hope, blessing of love, blessings overflowing
God we,
surrender
Coming back – where the movement is stillness (pose)
chasing shadows -wanting nothing more than presence alone
wanting time… wanting time to think… wanting to breathe in
wanting hope, wanting our youth to survive …
Like flowing waters -wells that never run dry.
companions- posing,
coupled by pride and perfection
to hide against the cage we called home
and our home
built of bricks and bone
slab and muck, twigs of flesh (pose)
to live…
we just want to live.
kindness sister Krissy
in my private moment of stolen grief
by public views of what appears
to be a happier version of me
what appears in blink of thunder and flash
to protect brokenness as leaky puddles
of someday when change comes
someday when the world is full stupid some-days
we can’t be tired of being sick and tired too long
because too many of us are dying under the burden of grief
head stones that roll away love in private pastures, shouting to the pieces of the soul that fly. Stay a little longer and let me be human with holes in the middle of my flesh and wounds that remember the safety in the someday when we go home where love is~kindness sister Krissy
I knew I still had some come back left in me,
I wanna be off the radar doing good
so good for the first time in a long time my socks match
with the those pink and green toes in the morning
doing so good, I’d wake up satisfied in
my own black coffee- they’d be singing folktales to me
hold my smile in the middle of adversity
braid my hair in milk and honey
with a splash of turmeric and cardamom
because there’s nothing better than that
golden life flowing, down on the inside
being the best of me
reaching for the rest of me
…~kindness sister
after the madness of darkness
after the portals of shattered things
such as tattered lint falling, slowly into spring
hope is a mother’s touch, unable to hold her child
undefined hope has room to grow
knowing the love of a mother, her love is still there
Hope like a wounded bird, pecking its’ way, untapped,
through the holes of despair, pecking at daylight
pecking at the seam
breaking through norms of dying
undue the burden, somethings gotta give
cracking at the yoke- wide with wings,
feeling high in the moment , a gush, a rescued touch
the ebb of love-ones’ emerge
believing, even when I’m weak
there’s possibility~ kindness sister
When sadness comes for me
I’ll be dancing my way in poetry
down bean pods in limbo, breaking my awkward pause
to feel the thud, to crawl when I can’t walk
sling, by sling, thump by thump
I’m alive
wrestling madness private eye ,
my swing is stupid,
my right hook, even I didn’t see it coming
I wade in stillness,
I wade in crazy-stupid faith
I wade and breathe in the music,
hold-up the cotton- candy sky
mint and saffron in all my daze
teleport sadness, inside
drizzle refreshing, dash, pip, bop and blow
ring the bell, shake and shake
I’m ready this time.
~Kindness
(digging through my family photos- my son at One years’ old, he’s 9 now)
deeply grieving, over the way it was,
church on a Sunday,
pub’s in the afternoon,
baptizing Jesus, and the things we lost
temporary-people, cut down in fields of green
temporary-socials, satisfied the touch of needs
I hate to say this..
nothing remains, nothing is promised
save the pain for a little heartache
save the tears in old used coffee cans
save the joy but let spill
over worries, even kill
over problems, gone down hill
over certain unmarked graves
waiting for the day
waiting for the new normal
if it ain’t coming,
I’m running to Jesus
finding that empty grave
lay down upon it,
be the stone that rolled away
be the cloth where is his head lay
be the dove that Christ had come
be the one that spreads good news
be the spirit after flesh
be a witness, be the hope of a small child
be the one who thrives in uncertain times
be the one who’s light still shines
there is, unconquerable hope
and it lives in you & me ~kindness sister Krissy
(me -Krissy as a kid- gotta get back to my 3rd grade stories one of these days, photo taken in 1989)
I wanna live like love’s never dying
never saying goodbye, see ya later or next time, for now our goodbye’s are getting cold
there’s a lake camping out on my eyelids – east winds, blowing
southbound and strong, I remember the smell of old writings,
I remember fear eating away at the day -we’d say goodbye,
I’m still looking for the sun in Indiana
still growing-up to be a grow up – one of these ole’ days
still love to taste dark cherries of summer
still love to daze into the dawn of the open-sun
still love to feel small against river’s rapid drums
and know home-home is never done.
kindness sister Krissy…(one day at a time)
~melanie ever moore: indie author & indie book blogger ~
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