a pregnant breath

[ Of tRUMP and Wall]

some say his will is stony thick
others opine his head is the brick
I say the skunk's own spray does  stick
and follow like a foul wind, a pinprick
to the most tender part of the heart

a real wall from hateful imaginings

[in a dream of God,]  a sea from her tear
verged sadness and filled Heavenly air
dimmed the gleam, stirred her anger
a gaping festered wound, from there
to the most tender part of the heart

the ears-fill of hateful rages
babies put  in barbed  cages
crossing arid stretches, bone dry
the dire stress- watching children die
for lack of water that we pour to ground
a libation to the  fertile surrounds
of hardness from greed  that cares less
for life than the gains of contrivance
when the sacred helm is a mere connivance

and the enemies appear to have its ear
in darkness, we stumble in blind fear
and America mourns, laid bare, betrayed
wrapt in own arms, confused dismayed
the strong woman was  bound in her sleep
drained by evil, blessings faded. we weep

but hope is an arrow that pierces deep
Tomororow speaks with a pregnant breath-- a new start
to the most tender part of the heart