I speak with my Father
I knew He knew me through and through
but I know Him better now
like a very tall tree I’ve always climbed
up and up and down and up and down
and then I can breathe again
these are my lungs
sprinkled brown with desert dust
in the light green breeze and queso blanco
the maiz, the pan, the evenings of burning trash
the only other green is grass for dogs and bugs
I thank God for the occasional tree
these are my eyes
blurring in sunshine, the bright bright light
and among the night’s blue sillhouettes
the orange street lights guiding them upward
they find wonderous estrellas, and the moon!
these are my dreams
they wake me
hay mucha oscuridad
but I am wrapped safe in God’s power
His Word is, in fact, a sword
this is my mind
at peace
