Climb with me
these red rocks of revival.

Take from my hands
remnants of soul
held, nurtured,
melded and grown
from seed to clover,
from branch
to blossoming foliage,

emerald and breathing
crystalline powder of stars

from enlightened colloquy of hearts;

symphony of lark begging credence
when light draws near
through a landslide of fate’s whispers;

syllables pondered and paired,
written in cursive plea
upon isabelline sand castles
beckoning skies to answer her call,

we, tender vessels to be filled.



2 thoughts on “Anointing

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