Monday, April 14, 2014

Exodus 6: In Writing

Short of breath
soul whistling past
crushed by the carried
dark fist in our back

spring us from beneath
the pounding weight
cradle us in your arms

Break me open
break me out
sudden sight
heard and hear
know and be known
say your name
call me
from the formless faceless masses

These are they
these are I
in all the stumbling earth within
I seek you
cry a name in the wilderness

the name we choose

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