For quite some times…my beloved seems <br />to misunderstand things we've done <br />and what to do about those things. <br />I've grown weary sitting in that tempest pot <br />filled with 'vengeance is mine' instead of <br />'love your neighbor as yourself.' <br />Some so -called Christ-children speak <br />divinely, yet not journey with [H]im as <br />LOUDLY proclaimed! <br /> <br />Imagining neighbors in different regions <br />can apportion memories of unshared <br />youths digging potatoes in separate fields; <br />chopping worthless weeds that surround <br />my momma's lush collard greens. Still I <br />envision lying in a hammock made of lovely <br />fabric and suspended between those infected <br />with love and those infected by satan virus. <br /> <br />Thinking still of growing up in different locales. <br />How the midday sand burns feet and the <br />cold snow you rolled into a big heap <br />you sang hymns; I counted sheep to sleep <br /> <br />By hand, cotton-picking was back breaking; and with <br />evolution, souls triumphantly cotton up to changes..<br /><br />Almedia Knight Oliver<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-hold-these-random-thoughts/
