Supernatural emotions

be arrested.

as a weaned child, rest your head on the beach between this & the eternal. measure how deep we go…

back to when we saw our first sun rise, a mother smile, a father breathe his last breath.

where does sadness exit, or soul. or my child’s tears when I touch him, or an old man’s tears, & a beggar’s invisibility:

am startled at What stares back; i got used to war,

_{Pic- Karsten Winegeart, unsplash}

not this. this opposes black&white lines. This breathes between the lies. A Wound that heals. A piece of healing spit in my eye, a bloodied whisper in my riot: forgive. Forgive. Let go. Forget. Breathe. Exhale. Inhale. Be loved. Live, live, not carcasses in the wind –

but arrested by Rest. the greatest temptation is to stay unwanted, unloved. Ay, am staring hangjaw at sacred choreography, “… walk on water? Nay, dance, dance…”