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