Imagine unbreathing for some forescore years, then having a time come to pass
When clarity, friend, helps you inhale again — Particulates gone, at long last!
Regaining the truth you’d abandoned to fog and the voice in your head not your own
Such oxygen acts as a nitrous lead foot — the checkered flag’s yours, welcome home!
The movie house has shut its doors
The Nepalese cafe burned down
Some ocean somewhere lost its salt
Some mountain range fell to the ground
Our schoolhouse — just a memory
Our hometown, your address belies
Just you, just me, but never we
Just why won’t time become goodbye
These are tender days
Savor, now, what frees shadows
Bravery, breath, time
Do you ever see wild animals?
There in the mirror
Barefoot tricycle driver
Wild woman walking
What are we to do
When at the end of each day
Goodbye will not come?
In such seeming eve of winter
This prophetic promise
The color will come back
Must the sun stay shallow
No!
Nor the green-gold, buried
Hearken days when cold, cold steel had not stolen light
Lift your eyes
Stride bold, through “til end of night
Original Inspiration Credit:
Psalm 121
1 I lift my eyes unto the hills, where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.
3 He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: He that keepeth thee will not slumber.
4 Behold, He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.
5 The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.
6 The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.
7 The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: He shall preserve thy soul.
8 The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.
Oh, I want us
Sharing sacred hallowed land
Neither cursed
Led by God’s hand
Fire said to destroy us
Instead refines our legacy
Blessed amidst
Such sand and sea
When we find the dance floor
At our appointed time
Our souls and eyes at once meet
To herald new lang syne
Which memories might serve us
Which regrets must we loose
When we release the pressure
Which dance steps will we choose
Original Inspiration Credit: “Get Up Offa That Thing;” by James Brown
Didn’t that heart, handed
Awarded, you
Afforded you
Opportunity to
Stockpiler, you
Be the you
You needed to?
Sorrow, sharp
Under this circumstance
Can, with time, mend this soul
Knotted heart, released
Many an afternoon cry
Yearned to be wept
Dawn came quickly
Indigo skies turned to gold
Commonplace kindness, see?
Knave, be chagrined
LisaRosier.com 