Making peace


I want to leave

It’s been years, it seems,

Shuffling the dust of this arid ground


Dry, hot sands get caught in

My throat

And my hair has been scorched by sun’s fire


I am not as pretty as once

For youth has circled my eyes like ravens—

Too many times


And, I am tried,

Very ready to sleep

Nestled in the cushion of something comfortable


Opportunity’s wheel stands still

The wall’s eye

Waits eternally for day’s dawn


In the company of outliers,

The Promised Land

Hums a new song in the distance


Although my physical steps

Take longer, this journey

Is well with my soul


And my wisdom grows

Like the old oak tree

Discerning new foliage each day


Not ready?

Not ready to move, you say?



Then I’m not ready either

So, for now,

don’t bring me up from here


No, not even if I cry out and tell you

I’m tired of walking

Tired of treading


Not even if I pray for a moment

That time roll forward

Like the agitations of a hurricane


Not if you will not come

Tomorrow land

Is not ready for me


Instead I ask not to bring me up from here

Unless you stay by my side

For I will not leave this land without you



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