Thursday, April 11, 2013

Sweet Southern Morning

Southern mornin' sweetness
hugged with the gentle kisses of the mornings birds
hummin' eagerly over railroad tracks
singin' past broken buildings and old tire swings-

Hard interruptions
of yella finding his voice,
muffled by the sounds of
choirs singin' and church bells ringin',
there's a calm here.

Almost find myself to ready to not believe it-
searchin' for sounds to halt and winds to disrupt
my sweet southern morning'-

My body collapses with the rising of Mamma Sun
kissin' wildly on her earth, the extensions of her body
finding my skin, kissin' firmly, wakin' up my insides
She eases me with a gentle touch and wraps me up in her mornin'-
sharing her wholesomeness with me
(never felt more delicious)

My breathing is slowed now
breath stilled by the chilled rhythm
of hearts aligning with the certainty of existence
no need to rush, it's here.

Southern mornings sing a cool tune-
heavy, tinged with blood red dirt
loose now, and sorry
singin' for new understanding
asking for rediscovery.

Southern mornings sing a compelling tune
with a melody of the blues
coatin' over a somber history-
accompanied by sunday church bells
and the happy sounds of children's play.

I thank sweet
for pouring herself onto the south
and giving me new morning
through my quiet mourning.

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