Shedding Should

This is an expert from “sUNDAY sCHOOL: The B.Riche Gospel.” Want more? Donations accepted via tithe.

Being part—
in part—
parts the petals to
allow breath,
both basic and
botanical.

We walk beside sister.
Feed from her and feed her, too.
But we musn’t mistake part from whole.

Parts are placed not for permanency.
They stay for stability.
For sound. For spirit.
Only you know when to
part from part.

To dredge up what you needed,
last you checked.
To drink in you,
and be drenched with

what is.

What can be—if only squints couldn’t cement certainty.
If stealth-soft silence didn’t stoke salivation

or salvation.

If only the Seeing,
shared, in unison,
didn’t sell you safety in secrecy,
sweat when you look it in the Eye
and say to it:

I am I. Are you, too?

Shying shedding shelters who she is.
And only she knows when to.
When to say shoulds like

Should she shed Snake’s skin?
Should she shred and scorch?

Should she pack up her things and
search for seashells or
sell seashells or
see seashells shore up and let them be and
let her be.

So those who will see will see you sooner.