Laying hands
speaking in tongues
we invoke
powers of protection
protection that slays
in the spirit
the slain
fall
caught
in trust
or in my case
in the lie
we tell
were told
in the crimson curtained
back bedroom
Slain
I would stare
from the floor
at the Sycamore
standing
sentinel
an ace of spades
branches carrying
winds whispers
'keep me safe'
We knock
wood
We touch
wood
and the wood
promises
safe
passage
beyond
whatever threat
however cloaked
guised in pastel
kerchiefs
and
revelations
In desperate
times
when
wood
no
where
is to be found
a frap
on the head
suffices all the same
not because
recalcitrant or pragmatic
reputation
no
that is not the reason
why
the
reason
why
is the watcher
is the wood
the trees
the guardian
Based on prompt to wrote a poem rooted in "weird wisdom"
#wabisabipoetry
#100daysforLionel
That’s really good!
ReplyDeleteA “frap”