For Terehas...

church bright and early sunday morning, eagerly anticipating pastor johnson's sermon. john hus has to be my favourite church in brooklyn, so much soul i don't even care if i lose control here.

then i see her.....wait is that? no can't be, it just don't look like.....she is smaller, frailer yet she's walking up to the mic so upright and confidant, i sit in a few pews from the back straining in the distance.

she starts to testify 'bout how she grew angry at God, how she'd abandoned her saviour and just couldn't understand why He, wouldn't have her in his favour and would've given her this disease. but she got up from her knees to shout out loud how she's believing again, no one ever promised clear skies without the rain.

i whispered to my aunt, what's wrong with Terehas, my aunt whispered back, Terehas has Lupus.......

and i sat there in my little pew feeling sad, as i once held someone close who had that disease. Tereahs please, don't give up.

For Terehas
sista girl,
don't let the devil steal your joy
you are an angel amongst angels
you are a white dove soaring in the blue sky
you are the light of a candle
just let the good Lord guide your path
the devil may come to break your spirit
but your mountain stands firm even during an earthquake
and you end up having the last laugh.

it's about the foundation.

sista girl,
you are beautiful
your walk is beautiful
your talk is beautiful
girl, even your hair is beautiful too
tell me, what shampoo do you use?

keep climbing sista
go on with your glowing black skin
reach high for all your dreams
and let the light of Jesus shine in
put away all your worries
and throw away all your fears
you are loved by even me, a stranger
and you can conquer any battle, cross any valley, swim any river, you can do ANYTHING all you have to do is trust God and begin....

a quiet monday evening in May

water drips slowly
from the faucet causing
the cup to overflow
i wonder
how much water would it take to flood the kitchen?
gets a little chilly at night
where are my socks?
the ones with the red dots are my favourite
gentle winds blow
the curtains over the chair
then they fall back to their position
like an army that just finished saluting something
just standing still
all day.

looking pretty so
guests can come admire
the design
a curtain's life is enough to inspire vanity.

a door closes
who is that in the bathroom?
staring at the wall
as if by some magic trick my
eyes will penetrate the surface
only on TV, i'm not superman.

so quiet
i can't help but notice
as i try to drown out the sound of her whimpering
don't cry, please
i can't stand to hear you crying.

where the light is

you are in a damp place
underneath all that is "unpretty"
you penetrate the holes of any substance
no escape, you find me even when i think i'm out of reach
that safety zone of solitude yet i see you peeping through
creating a psychedelic view for those who dare to gaze
i stretch my hands out to you yet i can't touch you
i can't feel you but i want you to shine on me
you bring a certain hint of crimson to my mahogany
who dares to even outrun you must be tired
as you have that fighting spirit to stay the race
such grace, such awe-some-ness, such power
the glow of a lamp and the life of a flower
you are where the light is....
you open me up i'm no longer afraid
i seek you out in around and above
you are in everything i love and don't know
and you are permeating the outer and inner depths of my soul.

(inspired by john mayer cover)

We.

in its simplest form
in its purest state
without hesitation
without regret and full of honesty
no complications
no commas or exclamations
no poetic explanations
no reasons why or because what if
no wondering what it is
as hot as 100 degrees
as cold as minus 3
without anarchy or money
rich or poor medium wage
before the first and last stage
at the end of every page of every sheet
every minute every hour seven days a week

i love you.