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Krissy Mosley Ministries

  • Sojourner​

    July 14th, 2016

     

    over seas

    In sleep – wild as meadow’s grass.

    Soft as lavender and rosemary.

    I turn tablets, one by one-

    spellbound and enchanted.

    The voices, behooved me read- on

    swallowing whole verses

    thundering quietly,

    Striking, rivers in my belly.

    Add to your virtue love

    Add to love, kindness

    Add to kindness, forgiveness

    “for in patience possess ye, your soul.”

     

     

     

     

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  • When I Look at me.

    July 13th, 2016

     

    painting-frank-morrison (21)

     

     

    If could remember, my hands are webbed for speed

    and my spine flexible.

    If could press down in the earth and accept all that is me.

    Then I would know from whence I came.

    Golden emeralds carved my skins.

    Love breathe light in.

    And -when the morning woke up – I was made.

    When night kisses me, I fly.

    And when sweet roses tickle my bones- I laugh.

    After all- I am something dark and beautiful.

    (google image- created by frank Morrison)

     

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  • Wellness

    July 11th, 2016

    rope_bridge3in

    On the bridge  at midpoint,

    My vibrations are awakening receptors;

    I thought I was lost, between the concrete.

    I thought I missed my exit.

    I thought it was too late.

    But all I had to do was,

    Give in –

    I give into happiness and let it take me.

    I give into my childhood wings and fly.

    I give into peace.

    I give into joy .

    Now that we have arrived, midnight has two sons.

    I can see the shadows guiding me

    through the tombs of sorrow’s past.

    And I won’t stop to check the time.

    Hurry chile, cut asunder each blistering bone.

    Hurry now,  day breaks.

    Through thine, eyes might we see,  how to dream,

    How to be.

     

     

     

     

     

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  • Good Times

    July 11th, 2016

    thumb

    I think that a song moves back the waves,

    while I comb the rivers of love.

    Parted over in the east yester- years and we forgive.

    I think that a song, brings me to my lavender -cedar memories and I moan, lon-ng

    and I moan lon-ng.

    A bridge though  made of energy.

    I think that a song, brings me -salted fire and I smoke it

    holding my lungs in place.

    I think that a song is more than spiritual notes- rather my fluid,

    I am the song in the east,

    I am the song of a river’s love.

    I am the song of songs – time I start singing to me….

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  • In Waters Unknown

    July 10th, 2016

    Night calls – I am ready,

    Weariless feet, seated under me.

    Charging mountains, magnetic waterfalls, all

    these illusions filtering.

    Living in sleep,

    paralyzed and praying,

    drifting on waves I cannot drink.

    Night calls , I become – soul

    giving off heat, laying on hands- traveling in bodies

    pouring milk into breast, pouring out rivers,

    New life-kissing atoms, in utero,

    Adding sand to the sea,

    And I laying down to rest.

     

     

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  • Baptized

    July 7th, 2016

    waters bapt

    Hearts – walked out.

    I felt your hollow space,

    don’t cha- stop now.

    These worlds spinning so fast

    but still, our spirits can nourish our souls.

    When everything is everything,

    When hearts leave home –

    Gliding along the slipper cast –

    in dimensions beyond these eyes,

    Take me to the water and this time,

    with no fire to be- awaken,

    Take me to the water and let me drink,

    in dimensions beyond these eyes.

    Take me to the water and this time,

    Love me.

    Love  me again.

    Bless me.

    Anoint me.

    Take me to the water in dimensions beyond these eyes

    Let me see- freedom’s heart with no strings

    Take me to the water and let me dream.

    Place it back inside – we’ll be home,

    and we’ll be home .

     

     

     

     

     

     

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  • Wounded Healers

    July 6th, 2016

    Sun2 Ron Boyer

    Here, we cook goodness in wooden pots.

    Here, we lay down in back aching laughter.

    Here, our essence speaks – in spiritual tongues.

    (Kubwa nguvu tumbo) –

    Mighty Womb,

     

    We dash toward whistling trains.

    Thumping under me.

    Listening to stillness,

    exploring silent dances,

    between each toe.

    Here, the rivers know my name.

     

    Burning off the feeble drums,

     

    Awaken

    I am whole

    I am knowing

    I am blissful

    I am full

    I am returning

    I am spirit

     

     

     

     

     

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  • All things New

    July 5th, 2016

    gone writing

    What a wonder- to see colors in the sky

    people passing by.

    Such a wonder – so many magicians, creating

    worlds like mine.

    Peace is not hard to find.

    Joy is here.

    Happiness is here

    A gentle loving moment to share –

    Wonders of release.

     

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  • Zuri

    July 2nd, 2016

    flower 2

    Chasing after things unseen.

    My faith remains,

    not hinged on religion,

    not hinged on precision,

    not pigeoned nor framed,

    not substituted for what I can see.

     

    My faith is my morning song.

    My faith is unwavering hope.

    My faith is parting waters.

    My faith is freedom.

    My faith is – I’m a living miracle.

    My faith is – unmovable.

    My faith is – unshakable.

    My faith is beautiful.

    My faith is more than magical strands.

    My faith is majestic,

    My faith is me….

     

     

     

     

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  • Confessions of a Heart Writer

    July 1st, 2016

    I haven’t given up – I’m just moving slow and that’s okay.

    Most nights, I’m dreaming  that the earth as caved in- and somehow I survive.

    Then the music stops playing somewhere – If I could believe,

    Yes I believe, my life’s not done.

    My words are prayers to the lips of the sky.

    My tears wash my pain back into alleyways – side by side

    Street sweepers, old folks and dreamers like me.

     

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