Lead me to the house of the master poet
let me break my fast, drink the wine
of thy pot, slain my flesh of lust
let my eyes sees the beauty of love
as I sit near the fireworks of thy hands
Take me to the master poet
let me learn the words from thy torment
and pin the lesson in my heart:
each word rejuvenates as water, an air to my nostril
they salve my soul like herbs gotten from the sixth hill
Hold my hands, tear my skin
stripped my sins, as a spinning thread
as works of thy hands bind
a mastery artwork of subliminal seance
take me into thy apprentice class as a poet
As a poet, let me be a master poet
where truth be learn as an empty well
let many drink from the course of thy root
for it is formless as living water
taking their infirmities and resurrecting their soul
(c)Martin Ijir 2019
martinijir's Blog 