How do I put into words,
What you could not say?
You tell me to sing it through poetry.
Wonders of what your last breaths were like,
When you went with the land.
On your own accord, I say,
and flowing free.
I write in rhythms of poetry. .
The injustice bridges me back.
What does your voice sound like?
As you hum lullabies of love,
In the early morning breeze.
Landing on my braided hair, I say.
Tempo to fill the space of longing,
solid, flowing free.
I write in rhythms of poetry. .
Surrender to the mysteries,
As the words come through more clearly.
Ascension of what you say,
Sings through my veins.
Grounded and ever present,
Weaving love and faith.
So we release and trust the space,
connected, flowing free.
I write in rhythms of poetry. .