his guttery trill, gum-soled and sticky with wizened contempt
is instantly corroded by the viral ozone of tropospheric memes
earwormed into polyphonic cackles
relentlessly pursuing you — tubing through folded gray matter —
until the voice of God, remixed as a call for intercession,
is you finished or is you done?
you pitch a prayer for completion
petition mightily for all ordained wonders to be finished
from spark generated to diligence sustained
make a way out of no way,
leaving behind tattered limp-tired tropes
overused and out-of-season ideas
scratch-deep grooves committed to sameness, repeating the repeats
a good and proper farewell to stuck and fused people
prolapsed yet yanked back by histories tangled and cursed But [then] the Lord says, “Forget the things that happened in the past.
Do not keep on thinking about them.
I am about to do something new.
It is beginning to happen even now.
Don’t you see it coming? I am going to make a way for you to go through the desert. I will make streams of water in the dry and empty land.”*
in the etheric gap you become unapologetically i and make…
fueled on and centered by love, the emboldened claim to lift up:
what i value what i wish to protect what i wish to lead with
this way ’round, loudly and assuredly a discerning heart supple-strong, free, open and clear