Take my body to the farm.
I’ll lay my wounds on the ground.
Encapsulate my tears in honey.
Let the oxygen reach, nano cells of my brain.
Revive the laughter of my soul.
Revive the hope of growing old.
Revive the rivers flowing in my belly.
Revive the tongues of my trees.
Revive my spirit.
Revive my eyes that I might see.
Revive my heart’s former dreams.
Revive the latter rain in me.
Revive the years from whence I came.
Revive each connective hymns – let me sing.
Revive my cartilage in my knees.
Revive my copper cowbells – let me pray.
Revive all of me.
Let me shutter, the elder’s branches,
Let us be crystals made of fine wines,
Let us feel the power,
Breathing through the vines.
Krissy Mosley Ministries 
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