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Picture by Ursula Jacobs Ruston, Washington |
At night, when my wings are laid to rest
And my love and I prepare for the little death,
(The one that has hope of morning light on soft brown skin),
I chatter like a child and place my head upon his chest
And there is joy and expectation, for one day
We will be planted in the earth like seeds
Our bodies laid side by side he and I
In the land his ancestors plowed
Proudly put an X on the deed
(Pride of ownership far outweighing the shame of illiteracy),
My love and I will wait, we,
Will wake to true light
Every tear, every tear
Ever shed, consoled
Truth and light
Maranatha
Copyright 2018
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