For quite some times…my beloved seems br to misunderstand things we've done br and what to do about those things. br I've grown weary sitting in that tempest pot br filled with 'vengeance is mine' instead of br 'love your neighbor as yourself.' br Some so -called Christ-children speak br divinely, yet not journey with [H]im as br LOUDLY proclaimed! br br Imagining neighbors in different regions br can apportion memories of unshared br youths digging potatoes in separate fields; br chopping worthless weeds that surround br my momma's lush collard greens. Still I br envision lying in a hammock made of lovely br fabric and suspended between those infected br with love and those infected by satan virus. br br Thinking still of growing up in different locales. br How the midday sand burns feet and the br cold snow you rolled into a big heap br you sang hymns; I counted sheep to sleep br br By hand, cotton-picking was back breaking; and with br evolution, souls triumphantly cotton up to changes..