by Jerrell Davis
From dawn til dusk
in this Haitian dust,
the heat on my feet
kicked up in the street
and caught my i .
Eye see Beauty
in this scorched earth like the fire in
persistent souls
seeking refuge
from a more unnatural energy .
From atoms to Adam,
senses to sins,
science to Spirit-
If you cannot see it
you need to hear it.
If we cannot touch it,
we must feel it.
Infrastructure
struck
down
by Nature’s sway
maintained by hearts that link
and lace
like handshakes
and again,
Eye see beauty
in the ashes-
For a phoenix will rise to its zenith.
Eye see the wind,
the breath of creation
and her Creator
combined to blow a breeze:
a kiss of Hope for each cheek.
But
each week that passes
without rain makes this soil less fertile,
despite the toil
and sweat shining
like the tin foil
our preservations are lined with.
This dry land,
a sanctuary
for those soaked
in the oceans of pain,
is relief, is refreshing, is home.
Yet, hearts thirst
more than the
parched dirt
and it hurts.
So with a prayer and a sigh,
we ask why
the Sky
refuses to cry
not one tear from her i
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