I
think of family; we’re a bit off keel; grieving in worship; and oh the giant,
to pardon gods, streaming for justice.
We live it torn, forever wheezing, to grab a stiff drink. I think of aunties, to carry the burden,
alive a nightmare. I love us more,
and ever for distance, to mourn a cousin; for vowels were made, to strike
renege, from morning to moonlight. I
can’t for live it, to know for mother, to strangle a neck. I love you more, to know a legacy, to ask
for blessings. We die so often, to resurrect, reading
Revelation; and ghost be heard, to fathom grandma, a woman of stature. I know for pain, to lose a sister, an
aunty for a child. We want for more,
and ever to settle, to wonder of God.
I know for Alpha, and even for Peggy, a fleet of giants; for mother
would brag, to feel for Spirit, a life in webs. It’s more theology, and more philosophy, to
know for grief. I love us born, that
sacred moment, and even a secret. I
can’t for cry, to know for hurt, a child in a carriage; and many watch, to
plead the rain, a gift to a toddler.
To speak of self: we love us more, a tear in a bassinet; for life was
given, to strike a match, a flicker of fireworks. My dearest aunty, the days have mourned,
to know for Edith; and truth to heart, the pain is grand, a thought upon
windmills. It’s deep the blood, the
secrets of us, the light of darkness.
Know for love, a torn event, to see you and panic. I think of Bill, a hardened eye, to cringe
a soon return; but this is life, to scrape the graves, to pray for souls. The nights are you, my dearest cousin, to
know for mercy; where love is tears, to see returns, an aunty you loved. I’m more for faithful, a silent cure, to
stream a curse.
