The pictures in Jade's Kitchen
Come, let
your wings beat,
blow, blow
in me - wind,
let me feel
your breath.
Blow, blow
them out, the ghetto garishly pictures,
that the
enemy has scattered into my lightful soul.
Comedy show
he has called it,
Which I
saw in Jade's kitchen.
Blow, blow
also through them,
swinging
with your gentle wings,
that not
the Brimstone will attract them
and carry
them off to a better place.
White
rider, saddled is your horse,
Mane and
tail, they fly with the wind
and sweep
out all the glaring pictures
away from
my soul in the flyover.
Did you see
the wild black riders?
they have
surrounded me everywhere
on the wide
streets of this world.
They
contain disease, plague and death,
but you
have marked me;
freed from
the touch of the black wings
Are you sheltering
me under your mantle!
Whirled up
has your blowing
the leaves
fly in the wind
far away
from here to another place.
There is
again freedom and elevation
through the
bright spirits blowing.
Forgotten
are the glaring pictures
which I saw
in Jade's kitchen.
A. M. Hosta