being back home
is a bit strange

I'm a grown *** man
with my own child
on the way
But my father has a way
of making me feel like a
little boy

grateful I can see love
in his questions and concern
when in the past I only saw control

grateful for my momma's cookin'
and how it keeps on comin'

when it rains, are the heavens crying?
sometimes I think the land itself cries
for all the torturous ways in which
we destroy it.

I wish I could converse with the trees
and learn from their experience,
the wisdom of being rooted to a place.

rain drops fall to wash away ***** city streets:
blood, *****, spit, trash, and lingering pain
all wash down to the sewers.

all water return to the great ocean
and we, even urban dwellers,
return to the earth.

don't cry sky, we're all returning home.

O Beloved,
may my life be an offering to You.

May my actions and thoughts be a prayer,
and may You pray in me.

Open the channels of my heart a little bit more
each day so I may experience You in a new way.

Help me to walk through fear with Your help,
and to reach out and help someone who is still
lost in fear as I was.

May my breath be an offering to You,
a prayer of gratitude for life flowing in me.

As soon as I start feeling low
My spirit dips down in the pit
The dog reminds me take it slow
Ease down will soon melt the heat.

Your life is so blessedly made
Gifted with so much of gain
Yet you are always afraid
Of even a minuscule pain!

You grumble at everything sore
Sulk in your mires of sorrow
While I wag happy at your door
Without having much of tomorrow!

The dog he knows it too well
Ever eludes a man happiness
He looks for it too much outside
When within him it dwells!

I awoke at 1 AM
And had no reason why.
Perhaps my dreams were torn from me
And with them my sleep so shy.

Maybe my mind could sense that I
Had gotten three emails so far
And maybe I wanted to see if one
Would make or break my heart.

It wasn't there. But it could arrive
If I stayed awake but ten more minutes;
I read the ones that I had received
But felt no spark of interest.

I wondered again why I'd woken late
In the bowels of the night;
Maybe somewhere in this world
Someone special gained their sight.

Yesterday someone's ears were ringing
And their friend said, You know what that means—
Someone's talking about you, girl
And I wonder if this is the same.

If I'm awake because someone's dreaming,
And I'm awake in their dream,
I know it's not the one I dreamed of
Unless in school he's fallen asleep.

Maybe the planet was calling out
And only I could hear them;
Maybe the world begins to turn
One notch faster at 1 AM.