Oh Lord, fill me with your strength.
Just enough to breath again
without panic tightening the noose;
squeezing sickness into life.

Let me stand upon this ground
and know what it is to live,
free from the fog that fills my eyes
and grips my freezing heart.

Banish those wolves that wait just there,
howling at my back,
or help me turn to face them
and hold their gaze in silence.

Could I live as I once did,
without these uninvited guests?
I've forgotten what filled the space they share
and perhaps it's safer that way.

But days are long and life is not.
It's time to take this risk
and whatever the wolves have been guarding so long
Oh Lord, just give me the strength to look.

Miakoda 2005



Would It Had Been Different

This cold morning buried in blood
the sheets twist in unspoken torment.
A pale white arm silently slips, and from a vein
seeps the last liquid of being.


And you stand safely, swaying before me,
blade held aloft, you wretched man.
Look at what you've taken from me.
Look at this raw mess of my body.


Your head is nodding; words burst like bubbles
from your mouth: I love you, I love you so...
But this time there is nothing to be saved.
Here is a clean slate. I'm not afraid.


Standing there stunned by the enormity of
what had to happen to someone else,
you forget as your heart drums cleverly within,
that you, the living, are now dying still.


And you're blind to the fact, for it is too soon,
that with this last thrust of your loving knife
you left each one of my apologies for you,
In the past which is now strictly yours.


And at last I am saved from your snarls and your sneers,
the callous grip of your hand, the burning breath from your mouth.
Whilst you, you will live in your own sweet hell
But all shall be well, and all shall be well.


This first winter morning, frost clings to the pane.
The beauty of twilight sledging in snow...

Oh Lord what have you done with your fury?
Oh, what have you done?


2004 Miakoda 2004



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