I’m redefining how, my mind, body and spirit works…..
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Poet Krissy Mosley 
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Photo by Quang Nguyen Vinh on Pexels.com I will show myself compassion and allow compassion to extend itself to others.
May I feel the power of love surrounding me.
May I feel connected and whole,
May I remember the little things…
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I may not tickle ivory as my elders’
my elders can surely make those ivory keys sing
bending wood between joints of their fingers like strings
strings that belong to God this I’m sure
but in the closet of my soul
I remember my mother’s knees
closely, compacted mahogany-copper
bone replaced with steel, firmly planted to hear the voice of God
washing the rags of her eyes
her eyes on God
keeping her posture on the threshing floors
fleshing out tears as white as snow
I remember the simmering rain, of prayers
with utterances that kept us warm
utterances in key where prayers go
when they are tattered and worn
prayers that give us new names
that we are not who we used to be
and prayers that affirm our higher calling,
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From time to time, the person I no longer -am has come to say goodbye. And it’s okay. I want the old me to know. I see you. Bowed head, shrinking back. Third-degree burn on your right hand. I see you. Oh! How have we grown as the years have gone on.
The scars I was carrying have no weight on who I am now. I won’t dismiss the facts. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs. And the trail of deaths runs deep.
Photo by Raquel Su00edlva on Pexels.com I have come back to take you by the hand, to lead you into a glorious departure. I’m better now, as are you. The little girl in me is cheering, every scar, every wounded hole, every dark night of the soul, We are the answered prayers of treacherous nights. We are the songs of holy grail, that’s right!
it’s’ time you know,
I whispered you into that holy-goodnight,
I smiled at you, at thought of your transmission,
I played this verse in your remembrance,
a sway of nod, impermenament,
There’s a new story to hum,
off key needs a bit of tuning though,
I have a good-good feeling, doe!
in gitty-pockets like butterflies
take the wings of the morning,
I realize I am life’s unpretentious dance,
an ocean-breath on a life-time of chance
churning fragile into fragrant, woody resinous
drink from my own homemade cistern,
eternal resilient- taverns of waters,
are always flowing, always leading
me home.
Poetry Krissy Mosley 2022
Krissy Mosley Ministries 