Under the redemption of all things ,my soul folds like a bud, planted in the
Salt of the lakes with no air that can spare it.
Under the pressure of being pressured.
Sure things come to the light, but only through darkness.
What do I feel under my feet?
Sometimes I feel the heel of my foot, but is it really land I walk on, or
The heavens that I look upon, while being a lonely child placed on this Earth.
I live through it all with still that smile on my face with no regrets of any such.
I breathe under water, with gills of faith that would take me through the Pacific and across the Atlantic with no thoughts of giving up.
I Breathe… I Breathe… under that lions den that drown me, but I keep it in my heart.
Breathe under that water; God’s got a blessing to spare.


Black Heath