Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I wrestled raw with Faith and wearied of
the fight— but Faith, our faith, had won in love.

I tasted homelessness and nothing else—
I suffered malnutrition’s languid pace
of pris’ner loss, incarcerated pulse
exposed to naked ridicule’s disgrace—
when you, a somehow form familiar, rose
like eyelids lifted on a rescuer—
and hurriedly you shimmied off your clothes
to shelter me— and most peculiar,
you pulled my lips to kiss your swollen breast,
my paper tongue to moisten by your milk,
your nipple in my soul as I caressed
your bosom: softer, warmer far than silk—
I knew you, Single Parent Love Divine,
who fathered me and mothered me in kind—

I suckled at the breast above your heart
and feasted on your flesh that filled my need
and, nestled to your tender chest, I filled
your cradle arms— and you in me and I
in you— but not alone, as slow I turned
and witnessed to the left of me a child
as poor, as weak, as meek as I was— and
he suckled at your right; he held my hand
and there we rested: tender, safe and mild—
yet suddenly the spirit in me yearned
to raise my voice of opposition, cry
with all my potency. I stirred, I willed
to break away— and selfishly for greed
I loosed my hand, my mouth. I tore apart—

O Parent Love, O Sibling Love beside
me— all my tantrum torment gluttony
for homelessness and waste you patiently
permitted me to pass. And while I cried,
you cooed a dovesong lullaby that I’d
its equal never heard— and silently
how peace appeared that, just as violently
as any force, all violent fears denied.
So humid hot I felt your breath exhaled
delight upon my skin and cool condense
in water-drops of hush and holy wind—
By you, O Love, O Vortex Flame, I failed
to root in loss— I lifted eyes to whence
help came; you fed me, held my hand again.

I rested in the faithful witness of
a friend, a faithful One and one in Love.