From words collected in a week’s reading….
As I stand dusty and awkward on the road of indifference,
I yearn for measures of tenderness
To wash over me like warm island waters.
I yearn for a dream deferred, a golden storm,
the voice of the wind.
The night has been long.
Voices recite a story.
Invite joy into conversation.
Revise my spirit.
Cleanse my soul.
Sing to me soothing joy,
And why should I stay behind?