On my belly I slithered forth
Naked
Inching my way through a
Cavernous despair
And when I cried, "Have mercy, Father!"
My echoes, heavy footed, trodded toward me;
A preoccupied mother
That could only enable my fear
Mediocre splinters of the Divine
Trickled down like liquid jewels
At indistinct moments
That ebbed in and out of Time
I
Screamed thunder, believing
That the stones would rupture
Pile on top of me
if
I must be where the pieces fall
Long as I could catch a glimpse of
This fabled Love
But the brevity of cold sleeping always
Promised
That these were not moments
But dreams
My eyes opened to blindness
And I lurched on
With only wet wounds
Speaking in Agony's tongue
To tell me the secrets of a strong and thriving
Heart
"Listen closely," they say
"Between each beat
The mind gently chants,
'The voice of the Father
Is a dream'"
