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This is a long distance fall,
this is an absence of thought,
elusive resuscitation and compassion thereof.
The cry of a wounded lion
and the call from an agitated woman
(she looked like a sister).
She dragged the children through the disfigured pastures
singing the serpentine song of salvation
while beseeching the dead sands.
They walk in rags as a marred generation;
the purgatorial flesh or a manner of excursion
through the land of grace
beneath the placid earth.
As I looked at her I saw forgetfulness approaching-
staring into blank space, and spoke:
“This is the wilderness of stagnancy,
I am wounded by fear.
I have dreamt of this before
I have dealt with the consequences;
I will use small words, I will shed my lips.”
Her voice began to resonate:
“My friend, the river has already dried for me;
the household is raging
and my desires remain still.
I eat with lepers, and gather the crumbs for the children
spawned from my shortcomings; they serve no purpose.
I pray for God to have mercy on us
I, who am here- what I perceive
no one will make me rearrange;
no one will save me.
The spirit of hindrance
I barricade it with iniquity and the presence
of fire. These are the days of miracles and wonders;
ancient of days at last I have found relief.”
I was perplexed by what I was hearing;
she was exasperated by the oppression
with a face that needed healing,
with a mind that was vulnerable.
I said to her, “It will continue no longer;
you shall destroy the stronghold.”
She laughed, “Don’t talk to me falsely,
I am no longer among the pastor’s flock,
I have already drank the poison- my faith is gone.
Don’t talk to me falsely about the land of the living
and of the dead; I remain homeless.
Agents of nakedness and poverty
you are no longer my masters;
your instruments are disembarked.
“My son, I was told to get up early
to appease the morning voice,
I have pronounced my will
to excavate my sins
and crucify it on a promontory.
The sword of the blood
suffers violence and violence
took it by force!”
I asked, “What does this all mean?”
“My body has no shelter,
the war and soul are one;
dig two graves.
Doors and ladders laid the foundation
not in movement.”
She exhaled, “No, I do not know where I am going.
The wings of regret and of joy; there’s no exit
only confusion in the cold distance,
a voice I must follow.
The devil has wiped out my family;
what has the world come to?”
Her tears stretched across the tombs
“I AM NOT AFRAID TO DIE!”
She sang, “The Lord is my portion in the land of the living
on the mountain, in the valley
on the land and in the sea.”
She took my hand: “This is no longer a prayer
this is a battle cry. I am telling you, child
we have nothing left------”
that’s enough, I said “THAT’S ENOUGH
I can’t stand for this!
Self is not my concern,
which is more,
I will fight for you.”
“Blessed be the LORD my rock, which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight.”