Oh faith that I finally made my home when all that I knew was a resounding question
She trickled down deep into my decomposing foundations, my rotting projections
I was transforming as I had always been, yet now so tangibly where change is within that which made me, that which is contingency
a poet’s harvest.
I throw my eyes on everything around me — it is all a child born through a call to go forth; bright with an essence of a launching voice.
I tear up my ears open to the ever present melody of things; countless sons and daughters — consonance alongside, within, because of diversity.