where the writers are
We
obatala.jpg

 

We

We who have sat behind doors

Waiting our turn

Bowing and leading others

To enter the stage

We dream on

 

We

We who give praise

Open our lips for the heavens to reign down favor,

Holding our breath

Waiting,

Finishing our sentences beneath our breath

Praying someone has heard our silent request

 

We

We who waited our turn

Put our lives on hold

While we made well for others to shine in our place

Breathed heavily

Longed for our moment

Shied away from our time

So that they could be more...

This time around

 

We

We who watched

Picked up our pens

And wrote words only God saw

 

We

We who stood at the front of the line

Waiting our turn

Living our dreams

Half time

 

This moment

This light

This time

Is for we

 

We who held passion

But lived passionless

 

We who hugged life

Only at night

Between drifts

Between sleep and dusk

 

We

We moved

Waiting patiently

Living favorably

Shining occasionally

 

This is for we

This is for the fear

The fear of wanting more than

For the fear of believing

For the fear of breathing out loud

The possibility

Of what could be

 

This our time

This moment

This light that shines

This energy that will not allow us to sit still

This will that cannot be pushed aside

This favor of blessing from the Creators own hand

 

This time belongs to we

Who've waited our turn

To live our lives out loud