I Hold These Random Thoughts
For quite some times…my beloved seems
to misunderstand things we've done
and what to do about those things.
I've grown weary sitting in that tempest pot
filled with 'vengeance is mine' instead of
'love your neighbor as yourself.'
Some so -called Christ-children speak
divinely, yet not journey with [H]im as
LOUDLY proclaimed!
Imagining neighbors in different regions
can apportion memories of unshared
youths digging potatoes in separate fields;
chopping worthless weeds that surround
my momma's lush collard greens. Still I
envision lying in a hammock made of lovely
fabric and suspended between those infected
with love and those infected by satan virus.
Thinking still of growing up in different locales.
How the midday sand burns feet and the
cold snow you rolled into a big heap
you sang hymns; I counted sheep to sleep
By hand, cotton-picking was back breaking; and with
evolution, souls triumphantly cotton up to changes..
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
