Hike

this fight, this hike
as the sun drops low
and gold light hovers
and covers this town
the train passes by 
without a glance
i'm missing my chance 
for escape.
my broken walking stick 
scraping the ground
the glass all around
glitters silently
awaiting my sermon.

i am a preacher
though i cannot speak
i will recite your recital
i will voice my confusion
untangle the vines
exposing the lies
humming in the storm.
sky is my witness:
let your words bring life
written in ink
bound on arms
inscribed on my feet
rings on my fingers
words scratched on copper
i cannot run from hope
let me not escape grace 
find gold in my proverbs
blood on the psalms
and dirt on my palms
because i fight for it. 

i still believe in you, father
new ground beneath my feet
your song in my mouth
strengthen my hands, come with me 
help me drink this cup.