broken hallelujahs

broken hallelujahs
crack their way
out of my
parched throat
like weeds
shoving their way
through the cracks
in old concrete
words stick to
the dryness
and tear on their way out
but cannot be refused;
my gratitude
understanding
appreciation
settledness
enthusiasm
have only grown;
but the vessel,
a broken hallelujah
in and of itself,
continues to decline;
i am weary and wandering
like so many israelites
in my very own private desert
(cluttered with
so many other lives.)
I know
She understands.

 

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zaidsong
Poetry
Free Verse
writing zaidsong
"We play da blues, so's da blues don' play us..." (Old Jazz adage)
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