"Carry me when my legs give out," he says.
|
We did not expect this bramble,
|
this thick of thorns.
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You always see us running to anywhere
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but where we're meant to,
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the belly of the sea.
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Breathing in the womb,
|
the surrogate mouth of divinity.
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And we're scraping our hands across
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our skinny wrists,
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These skinny wrists.
|
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We have seen Your labor:
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this looming mountain,
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this foaming sea,
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this endless field of briars.
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We have seen You.
|
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I want to tell You when I see You
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that I've done the best with what I've had
|
just like You did.
|
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We want Your favor
|
and I'll ask again tomorrow.
|
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Oh I could not, I could not
|
wait to be let out
|
I'll ask again tomorrow.
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And I will not, I will not
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be found wanting in Your house.
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|
-----------------
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The Song that Holds Us Still
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After The Sirens |