When the thought of the love of my lord actually penetrates into the dark soil of this stony garden of a heart I have. It comes down like heavy rains after a long prayed for to be ended drought… beautiful herbage of all beautiful and colorful varieties shoot up with vivacious enthusiasm from this finally satiated, once dried to dust soil, reaching and stretching up to the heavens to greet the true and solitary giver of this divinely descending abundant love…oh thank u Allah!… owner and organizer of ur seemingly unending dominion… of which, my existence bears witness to ur own having to be necessary in order for mine to even be… may these fresh and quickening scents emenating from my newly blossomed petals bring the one who experiences how u’ve lovingly willed me to be, benefit by being brought to ur rememberance when they’re taken in!… our Maker!… Sender of all good things!

Published by Pack Redfeather

I am a walking contradiction of traditions some say. An African American and Native American Muslim poet with a personal life history as violently turbulent as a Storm. A visionary from the bottom of life’s social barrel striving to share the hope found in the light of faith through sometimes dark but real poetry. I’m a former member of the Bloods street gang, former serial bank robber, and both federal/state prison convict. I live on my mother’s tribal reservation of the Leech Lake band of Ojibwe in Minnesota.

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