Crowd noise — silent tones said under my breath, as my faith’s
HP is beeping so loud, that I’ve learned to ignore it. I’m semi-
crawled, half-walking toward a maze of unknowns, given just
enough truth to fold and tuck inside the mind.
But I guess it’s the advice to mind your step… especially when
overstepping your reach, as the hand that lives in poverty often
feels cut short — and life itself is even shorter. You exercise
your right to live, but the final test is only passed at your passing.
And right now, I’m growing into my own powers, but even I can
get overpowered by my pride — refracted slightly; border-jumping
into lives I was never really invited into. An alien, indeed.
See me hovering like a UFO above heads that don’t know me, but
still see me appear in their atmosphere. And I don’t fully enjoy this
alienation… and sometimes I wish I could just land and be human —
and to actually feel grounded on this Earth, so that the atmosphere
of my prayers don’t feel so tight. As the atmosphere of a prayer feels tighter when the pain of your struggles, wraps its hands around
your ribs — a tightened breath, and even tighter belief.
When it gets so hard to say thanks when you’re hurting, harder
to say Amen when you're unsure if the line still connects. As the
mind feels so crowded — a room full of voices, echoing opinions,
guilt, hope, and noise. And sometimes I wonder if the silence in
between prayers, becomes the answer to help me feel better with
it all.
