Tag Archives: poetry, writing, prayer, kindness

Day19 #WritingMyselfWhole: Bleeding Out Prayers in Poetry

As the morning moves the blues clean into hiding
and my tears have prayed me- even before I did
Marvin Gaye’s words prove to be the latest gospel
“oh mercy, mercy me, things ain’t what they used to be”

The soul of America, has a hole where there used to be a heartbeat
the heartbeat of souls slowly dripping over yonder-
the blood of worshipers’, the blood of grocery store shoppers’ ,
the blood of morning commuters’, the blood of protesters’,

the blood that gives me strength, blood that holds whole families together
the blood of day to day, and their blood still cries out from the ground

this is the ache of darkness we are forced to sit with it,
the ache we can’t swallow, because our throats are hard like stone,

so I must tell you, as I must tell myself,
don’t hold your breath
don’t hold back the tears that follow
don’t cut the black bird’s song
in mere and morrow

let the song bleed you
let this prayer, pray you
let these words hug you tightly
til you do

Poet Krissy Mosley

#Day15 #WritingMyselfWhole Virtues of Surrender Part 2 (continued)

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where there is surrender, there is a greater reveal of spirit,
where there is virtue -yielding, there is the awakening,
where there is a waving of both hands, there is readiness,
where there is emptying out, there is a changing of old guard,
where there is a for- giving- and giving of itself is a sweet release,
and where there is a sweet -release there is walking home,
carrying out its own transmission of burdensome -ghastly- fears,
this is the getty in the journey,
yearning, un-learning grieving in the meaning,
of surrender.

art photo author of this blog~ your Kindness sister

Kindness Cafe:

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I smiled at the cashier, she gave me Kombucha, Blueberry tea, it bubbles my on tongue. I’m sure I’ll have time to taste goodness. I picked the stool by the window, watching the train going by. The little cafe was so close to the tracks. I could feel the engine, rumbling, rolling along, in front of me.

In that second, I closed my eyes. To the aromas of the mid-day, vegan pea soup, crispy baked banana-bread. I could be on that train. The aim of landing nowhere. I’d be riding for days, counting Evergreens, counting little people. Counting baby birds. Counting eleven blue-moons on the horizon.

As I opened my eyes to the miniature squared- window. Once more, on the left side of the tiny cafe. A baby poodle marking his territory. People shaking hands, laughter spiraling. Fermented green-tea storming the air.

kindness has its worlds’ of flow.

Peeled honeycombs,

lairs and layers

zones, and quivers, cubic dimensions of honeycombs

the wax oozes into sweetness

free hugs for all, adventures in kindness

a craft of humility, mastered by humanity.

Meeting places, undefined

kindness sis Krissy