Jun 11, 2021

Forgiveness. A sister.


A half-opened window 

rattled from the wind. 

I sat in my chair and shivered, 

but I didn’t get up and close it. 

Who can forgive me 

when there are no gods? 

I sat and shivered, 

hating the truth; 

I must forgive myself.  

-jobe   


My sister is slowly melting away, a little at a time, like the wax from a candle left burning all night. A hip melts, then the other, and then a shoulder. A thousand miles away, I can hear the drops of her hit the cold floor and sizzle for a moment. I light a candle for my sister, to melt as she melts. Time is the flame.

-jobe


The cry of the poor is is not always just, but if you don't listen to it, you will never know what justice is.

-Howard Zinn


Compassion crowns the soul with its truest victory. 

-Aberjhani


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