Ray, I say, today
warm the swarm
light the right
sun the Rays
of dances and plays.
Play to pray.
Pray to say
sons of the sun
outshine the gray.
It’s almost May
the month I say
I was born a son
to still the fray.
Rap, Unwrap, Wrap, Boots, No Bootstrap, No Entrap, No Stop Gap, No Speed Trap, Need tap.
My accident was my accent and emphasis
blocking my purpose and synthesis.
Uncommon sense as sensei from Providence.
Returning to restore my confidence.
Action becoming prominence
from obedience, not dominance.
Let me pick where you didn’t leave off.
You thought I agree, but I said stop changing the premise.
The woohoo of the who Wooer.
Less than less alone.
Imperfections give rise to new spiritual and relational opportunities.
Rapidly changing to meet the rapidly changing, yet familiar, realities.
Plural commands, not pluralism.
Sneak a peak.
Overeating your words.
Better homes and gardens.
Finger food fast and furious.