in the middle of my heart there is a breath that begs for more
amidst the desert of unknown flavours and fearful times
I ask for more
in the middle of my heart there is a sweet time of morning and recitation when I cannot sleep and I cannot feel but song flowing in the wind flowing in my mind flowing in freedom flowing to tommorow from forever
in the middle of my heart I close my eyes and take a breath to survive
of language that ryhmes, language that means , language that is alive
in the middle of my breath my heart desires to be light , to be motionless, yet powerless for more
In the middle of today I think of tommorow remembering the past thinking - these voices are my interchange to heaven these beautiful words are my only hope - the secret of an african queen - staring into the skies dreaming of a place elsewhere with passion and love - through twists of sky and cold of dawn - amidst the breaking ice and the earth's vastness - she dreams of a place filled with all her dreams - maybe new ones maybe forgotten ones maybe real ones - maybe even not her own ones but the ones of a beautiful Muslim girl.
through my eyes I imagine a sight amazing - I imagine a man in love...with me, I imagine horses racing to their enemies , their breaths violent with gods strength their eyes glowing with triumph their holders wanting nothing but to pass this religion onto us - onto me - A long time ago but I imagine it yesterday a long time ago but I imagine the reflection is only a moment away a long time ag but I imagine was I there?
I imagine their love and power, their meaning their hope their words their laughs or maybe their seriousness - their life - their deaths
I imagine their families, their reason and their heaven
in the middle of my heart their is a growing place filled with sorrow for my wasted past and my weakensses their is a place for my undying love for my faith and a fear that no one will understand me
how far am I from beauty?
how near am I to love?
in them middle of my heart there is a bliss of not knowing yet a fear of being the one left out
It is not what God has in plan for me that I am afraid of it is what my own disaster can hold for me
what my own sickness can make me feel and what my own blackness can delete
SO in the middle of my heart I beg and beg for white to draw on all my heart - for change and continuity ----------forever
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