We are kind,
gentle -natured people,
unfettered souls
trying to piece together
a living,
trying to piece together faith
trying to hold back- afraid
like old cotton sheets
wa-a-y down in the wash
smelling up the days
of wa-a-y back when
We made mud pies
We made sunshine
We glued our problems together
We loved real -hard
We fought real-hard
We prayed real-hard
We dreamed real- hard
We cried-real -hard
for real change to come….
Poet Krissy Mosley
Put your
arms around me
we need it
more
than
ever
not a moment of silence
not a whispering plea
let the world fall to its’ knees
let this prayer hold weight
with arms and legs
that change petty things
such as gun laws,
that hold ruthless evils
and keep- senseless death
from happening
Dear love,
keep our children
that they may have
a better chance
to run and roam free
Put your
arms around me
we need it
more
than
ever
now….
our prayers are for Uvalde ,for our school children and all those effected …. Poet Krissy Mosley
As the morning moves the blues clean into hiding
and my tears have prayed me- even before I did
Marvin Gaye’s words prove to be the latest gospel
“oh mercy, mercy me, things ain’t what they used to be”
The soul of America, has a hole where there used to be a heartbeat
the heartbeat of souls slowly dripping over yonder-
the blood of worshipers’, the blood of grocery store shoppers’ ,
the blood of morning commuters’, the blood of protesters’,
the blood that gives me strength, blood that holds whole families together
the blood of day to day, and their blood still cries out from the ground
this is the ache of darkness we are forced to sit with it,
the ache we can’t swallow, because our throats are hard like stone,
so I must tell you, as I must tell myself,
don’t hold your breath
don’t hold back the tears that follow
don’t cut the black bird’s song
in mere and morrow
let the song bleed you
let this prayer, pray you
let these words hug you tightly
til you do
Its’ been harder than ever, to write and breathe so deeply. To do the work of restless breathing, touching wounds that haven’t quite healed correctly, I am afraid.
these scars will fester, these scars won’t jester…
feel them, my knees are hard as black coals,
feel them, my heart swallows shadows,
feel them my feet are swollen in grief,
and yet,
O’ God I’m still here…. (written by the author of this blog)
Dear kindness, I may see through a glass, in a half figurine. Tables turning. Blood rushing to the scene. Where have we laid our conversations? Where have we laid our un-prayed, prayers?
Over- yonder down by the riverside.
In the foggy-haze, taste a pinch of hope
see the sky, curl-over against the legs of the sun
bills unpaid, missed days, hair- all in blob, and done,
conversations now, are more than others got.
And God this is just a thought, if only, your hinder part
leave a spec of glory, that we pass through
so we may know, God has not forgot.
God has not, forgot.
Kindness sister Krissy
In my book, there are no shortcuts. Sometimes, I do believe I’ve gone the long way but in the end, I’m right where I need to be.
(feel free to share your tips on blogging and writing)
Kindness sister Krissy
I wanted to count the days a little longer. Stay under the brightness of the winter-storm. Snow and sun, and snow, slightly picking up mesquite winds. Although our worlds are shifting.
Our Merciful prayers have never been the same. The baby birds were cooing underneath the misty drizzle. The temperatures steady but dropping. The sky and I, weeping over something weak and terrible.
I think we were enjoying too much of self pity as of late. Tasting salt droplets, like leftover pudding. Cream still there just harder, firmer now. Puppy wrinkles for eyelids and the sky too. Didn’t seem to matter much. Neither one of us seem to help the other.
Then my soul goes off without me, as if it should, wondering about darkness, sickness bending one and the same ashy-twig, frantic but holding.
Dear God, the weakness inside my soul seeps out like weeds.
the needs of your people, ever-growing but God, this is where you crack our heads open with miracles unfolding.
kindness sister Krissy
A lonely place,
with salvation and intention
Running waters while I weep:
Dredging undefine pipelines
dredging underneath insecurities
dredging backward toward
gravity’s feet
separating the void-nothingness
In the beginning…
Krissy Mosley Ministries 