What happens when the words
are carried on the backs of angels
and thread themselves like strings from your heart
to the edge of your fingertips
like consciousness translated into poetry
a spiritual essence poured out only to be confined
and restricted to the page that binds them
what happens when newness fills you to the brim
forcing you to walk into new beginnings
that this flesh has yet to verbalize properly
I have not the answers to these questions
just inklings of miracles
from black colored ink
and fire coated passion
on white paper.
I have one simple message for you today: “Don’t be stupid”.
What I mean is, don’t be foolish. Some of us are so “overtly intelligent” that we are unable to appreciate the little things, and the simplest of manners shoot past us like a bullet. We may know the intimate details of Pythagorean’s Theorem, but we are unable to comprehend something has simple as the music in the trees or the praise coming from the lips of birds. We’ll philosophy on evolution and even teach this in our schools and at the same time admit it’s just a theory. Yet, we’re unable to understand “in the beginning”. And despite how many times we wake in the mornings…the number of times the Almighty Yah allows the sun to dance once more in our faces…despite how many times we feel the wind on our backs I’m convinced, that because man will never know how to count his breaths, he will always be too stupid to count his blessings.