For the Father

Inspired by Psalm 21

For the Father

There’s this dream that visits me some nights. 

Some… one…

Some… time…

Some… how…

Not now.

I shout but no voice comes out

Forgive me, Father, it’s been one week since…

What can an eight-year-old confess?

I bit my tongue.

I clenched my fists.

I smothered my fire.

Half-moons marks cut the life lines on my palms

Have you tried Psalms?

There’s this dream that visits me some nights.

That one…

That time…

That way…

I stay.

I shout and my anger comes out

Forgive me, Father, it’s just that you got to be angry

And I confess I found you deplorable

I sharpened my tongue.

I released my grip.

I learned to tend my fire.

Ancient words wrap around me like balm 

Yes, I’ll work with that Psalm

There’s this Spirit that sits with me some days.

This one. 

This time. 

This day.

I say.

I speak and my Self comes out.