Rise Prophets Rise
Check This, I know a Medicine Man who spent 10 years doing manual labor,
He is a Genius trapped in an insane world.
I know a woman, Nolana, with the Heart of a Lion and the Soul of a Saint, who doesn’t
think that she can lead because of the voices from dead people, with dead hearts,
and dead souls.
And yet, I am called higher to love the dead unconditionally and yet I am called higher to
love the dead unconditionally, as I attempt to sort out my own insanity.
I know women, so many women, bruised and battered and hiding in shame.
And though I hide too, I want to shake them and say.
You are the future, the past, and the present hope my sisters,
You are medicine women, prophets, teachers, and preachers,
Caught in a world in some respects dead to kindness.
Your soft hears are wounded and so you turn to food or against food or drugs or sex to
comfort places that only God can reach.
You are Sirens and Phoenix’,
You are eagles and hawks, caught in the visage of crack addiction, or binging and
purging, or seeking abuse with abandon.
Just as I fake tough when my soul cries deep for a reprieve from my madness.
You, afraid of sadness, with imploding anger,
You are the prophets of a new tomorrow.
For you have been to that dark place that most men run from,
And through struggle, toil, faith, and surrender,
You will continue to face the shame, and know freedom..