And your son
Fathered you
To carry him against the disbelief
And anger of conventions
And you gave birth
To the death of old traditions
That will not die
That stones your memory
With silence
For children are not products
Of wedlock
That die in new crucifixions
On crosses in the womb
And the old lie
Of third world overpopulation
You were a gift from him
And he the gift in you
Telling us
We are heritages of the Lord
Like Solomon
Building a sacred place of prayer
For the culture of our sins ...
I do not call you intercessor
I call you courage
Of the better example
Of love's perpetuity
There once was a desperate lonely old man walking through hot desert Sun.
He was completely sand blown and all his garments dangling totally undone.
But he walked as a sharp shooter aimed bowed and arrowed in the Sun’s way,
He seemed to be searching indefatigably for a higher score on a brighter day!
His whole entire world he had left,
Leaving each of everything behind!
He could feel his sunshades begin to slide slip and melt.
That poor old man was about to lose his beautiful mind.
Then he looked up at the vast Sun and this is what he said
Me! Oh! My! “I Do As I Must So Now As I Must Give My High Recommend”,
A dash of this or toss of that brews my seasonal mixtures into weather’s blend!
I really, truly and knowingly do give you my honorable High Recommend,
Just so I can commend my natural amends coursing thy self on honors end!
Crossing over the threshold
creaks as loud as thunder
wallpaper peeling from years of old
like all of its memories of yonder
The wallboards and the floors
just bursting to tell
their many stories of yore
that only they knew too well
An old fireplace in its grandeur
with cracked bricks and holes
still has the same majestic hearth
heart of a loving home
Now leaning in sadness
empty and all alone
with loving care and tenderness
will again be a beautiful home
So as I strive to bring
its beauty back to life again
I can hear the old house sing
its proud song as it did once then
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