here is a picture of me

waiting at the gateway



who knows if the spirit of man rises upward

he who is filled with the word is like a newborn child

wasps and venomous serpents will not sting him

the wicked beasts of sodom will not pounce upon him

he will not be attacked by plagues of prey



do not be afraid of those who kill the body

but cannot kill the soul

rather, be afraid of the One whose bones are soft, whose muscles are weak,

whose grip is firm

your fathers tested and tried me

our relationship seemingly falling apart at the seams

but our grandmothers were both seamstresses for a reason

-found poem from class-