Today, I affirm I will not fall
into the brittling arms of another
ambush—I will tame my steps
with the fetters of Jehovah’s grace—
I will wait
inside His miracle egg till I hatch
into the eye of a fine reggae. I will
only be vulnerable where the light has
a say. If you will find me, ask
the women with lilies in the wet
of their eyes. The body
with all its demands, won’t supply
at ease. I will dip two fingers
into the mouth of my weakness,
unafraid of its brittling fangs.
lift up your roaring tongue to heaven,
swear you do not have my mother
in your belly. Show me your recipe, swear
she is not your dinner.
Bald gongs, shush your mouth—
where is my honour? Secretive
wind, whose story do you hide in a fist?
Adonai, keep me like the sweetest
wine at the wedding in Canaan;
keep me where the blade is
kind. Keep me the way you keep
your flock from wolves
in sheep’s clothing. Keep me from
the axe’s tongue, from the tooth
of my vulnerabilities—
because the alternative is to die, keep me
like something tangible.