APRIL

This
is the season of my shaking
something has taken me far from love and
certainty and in the springtime I tremble
mistaking rememberance for prophecy.
Lord so big, don't forget about me,
the quiet air is full of the noise
of what's about to come and worry,
old as the sun, dark as my old
smelly room, where you came to me
and they came to me and every bad
memory came to me, makes the time
of budding leaf and the pushing
root the season of my shaking.
as long ago in this time you
came to get a sorry people
out of slavery,
so now come to my
trembling heart
and worried mind and
in this too bright day,
set me free