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


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