-soof (wool)
am I the caller or are you?
am I seeking light,
or are you illuminating my path?
I wish my fingers were worn
from this rosary I carry
but my hands are hard and callused
tis the heart that beats wear down
there is no more it can take of this glow
where the river of remembering you flows
where every lover and seeker goes
where they grow
where the knower, knows
and everything slows
and taken by the throes, of prose
of healing aloes
all comes to a close
where in desperate hope
we yearn to be one that He chose
where suddenly awash are woes
and secrets are disclosed
off to the market we go
to sell our adornments
and don the beggars clothes
so hand me those well worn
damp with fever
scent of a lover
patches of woollen throws
it is only a shell
for this piece of flesh
and of my other shell
in molten fire dispose
now take me Lord…
and of our vicinity
keep it ours
not a person of it to disclose
-W.E.
lonerloaner 