My (A Psalm of What we know not)


Graphic courtesy of Weaving Grace

My heart seethes, my texture turns into a rough and challenging sand, my shadow becomes another image of man. My danger challenges, my kiss leaps and catches sorrow where it lands. My distance stretches, and catches suicide, where daggers play, my eyes catch the deadly doctrine in the palm of your hand. My age is worthless, my time is your skin, and forever I am the interest of your anxious need to watch equality swagger drunken in a spiritual wind. My womb is open, my alphabet of relief, my Aleph to your fallen need to know why your love smells like roses and genesis to me.

My breath conceives, my air, a tumor that grows, and overtakes your softer need to touch the earth. My movement, my blood underneath your broken skin, a moment you know not, sheltered whispers I place upon your cracked and barren lips. My craven balance, my scent upon your brain, a footprint a Yod in mind from where all law begins. My oh my how you know not, my nature, my gift, my flame that touches bone the sound of Samech, endless divinity, that defies your end. My face that mourns not, a language long before you thought, forgot. My stars, my earth, my ethereal wonder in all of you.

My Tzadik, my faith shimmer of righteous shine, my sun before morning and my moon blood red before the blessed rise. My Zion, my tangled freedom set in Tav the impression of stone where nations die. My lonely fate, my rush in changing statute just to hold you with me. My Vav from end, my beginning in dreams that utilize the earth, my love for you, my light on and on, my expression, my Hei, my action in thought, fore thought in psalm music played, my you while letters seek the day. – 06/06/2014 – דָּנִיֵּאל


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