mangola
dreaming of earth. the mark of the lion spray painted on the ground digging the mounds, sculpting the faces of collective memory and posibility.
self abuse for livlihoods sake. selling my soul in hope of meeting expectations… i dont believe the prosperity gospel. how do we steward and not prostitute our gifts… to behold and appreciate beauty without selling, raping, or destroying her…
i stared at the piled full plate of stubbs bbq listening to the black gospel band singin…”i just keep runnin to Jesus, im still runnin” thinking to myself how the month before i couldnt even pay for my morning coffee… just last week even…
there are two tracks on this roller coaster… having and being without. then all the while we’re trying to learn how to share. to give. to recieve. oh yeah, you gotta watch out for cars that have decided to go the wrong way.
what to be? what to do?
to heal. to nurture. to behold.
