and a time to speak

speak into the world,

the story you woke up with.

after reading the paper,

the decisions of Yes You May

and No You Wont, from on high.

after sifting through your need

to be heard and seen,

and debating whether

it wouldn't be better to

up and leave and serve

the hungry and the dying,

after sitting still for an hour,

(or thirty seconds),

remembering the future,

and groping the past--

that story no one asked for,

that story that may never

walk & talk beyond the walls

of your kitchen,

or the throbbing of your temple.

tell that story nonetheless,

because it has no other advocate,

but you, and though it is

rife with indecencies

and petty motives

there is yet darkness

that will cool the summer heat

and the occasional

holy flash that

might help us all

to listen and be still

and see each other

between the lines.