Even when I don't see You
Even when I can't hear You, can't physically touch You
I know that You are there
You are here
You are here
Amen

I, the observer
I
watch. you, gripping at safety in
schools of fish, shifting
with the currents
you dart back and forth
back and
forth
I watch, in still motion

Late in time, in the smudged
glass, I see
rain dripping all over me

she stood on the stage, shivering
a harsh light awoke her
we watched the fire, ignite within her
I felt her indignant words
deep inside of me
ignited, along with her

I walked up to her
tapped her shoulder.

she turned around, surprised.
"thanks,"
I said.
"I felt that"

a fluttering weakling
Yet immortal, unextinguishable
a gentle candle, hypnotizing you in the dark

It can heal a heart, save up a life
It is an abstract work of beauty given life

It resounds in one's hearts, beats to one's heartbeat

hope
is a fighting beam of light

I am fearfully rubbed, smeared with dark, drying black blood
The Huntress smoothly takes the arrow out
the creature, crumbled up, looks as though in sleep
The Huntress picks up, slings her over her shoulders neatly

I hate her
I cherish and mourn the blood that stains my peaceful green
I vow to mark the place where the graceful deer had lain on
But as I vow, a big set of doe-eyes peer at me through the dark gloom

My friend's only child
a young fawn

trodden upon by the graceful creature,
bruised,
but I could not complain
I tickle her hooves


bang

something heavy, soft, and delicate falls onto me,  
I am aware of a dripping, sticky sensation on me
I have seen it before, in wars, in accidents, in births, in genocides, in ******-
blood

Her doe-eyes round and glassy
I weep, shaking the dew off of me

Something two-footed, sure-footed stomps on me quickly, quick-breathed
I peer up
A huntress
with her bow
with her arrows

I examined the creature carefully-
a black, smeared arrow jutted out from her side
I wept, unable to do more than sing
waving my arms, up to the trees

A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.