It's soooooooooo
cold,
You could snap my toes off 
Like mould,
In  buildings old,
Where erry ghost stories
Will be told…

Gratitude I offer,
To the many brave poets
who have lived,
Loved and let ink hover,
Over and over
Syllables and turns of phrases
Allowing us to let our minds mingle in corners of word mazes,
Inspiring our hearts
To share  —
And move the future forward and fairer.

Sprout of a leaf,
listen--
a thousand wings of applause
shatter the quiet,
rising like storm breakers.

Our daily prayers,
Are in fact ‘dares’
That we would dare to approach God
With our earthly needs;
For more:
More money,
To buy
More clothes, shoes, bags,
Technologies, TVs, devices, gadgets
Properties that we can conquer too;
People.

How scandalous are our prayers —

“The Establishment” has been tarnished by
Entitlement, abuse of power…
Neglect…
Trauma —
Absence of soul;
Values and beliefs have left a vacuum.
Where we need to return to the Ancient of Days for the true source of power,
Beliefs and
Life —

You tell us, ‘Fix your eyes on me,’
Yet, I let them wander...
To others, to socials;
To the eternal slumber —
To anything that will distract,
What is this hole in me that gnaws at
me so deep?
Fought so hard to be alive;
even in sleep* —
Lord, open my eyes,
Yes, awaken me again
from this earthly  ‘freeze’
so that I can live,
thrive and fix my eyes on thee.

I have reams of unfinished poems scattered throughout my life;
On my phone, in Voice Memos,
On the numerous laptops that I've had,
On serviettes, scrap paper and on my heart.
Will they remain incomplete;
Hidden works of art?!
Or will they spill out one day
As complete works to part?