unearthed
I’d aimed to be
a ME-ist
when He
called me high
beneath a rise
where strength grows on peony petals
breaking through
The rock
radical love
a shock;
stock ME-istism
rocked —
chinked by pink
and powder
what will
make the sage
stand still —
I know that’s
when He speaks;
toppling olympus
wresting Me from isms
bare; I saw Me in His basket
patently
picked on
purpose
ThoughtSong Intersections 