Hearer of sleep-killer screams,
is there no exit from this maze?
Love Guide, are You a phantom
conjured in cancer’s blind alleys,
levitating in the iCloud?
Still with suffering sisters’ eyes
we perceive You, stripped of cliche.
Hold back word floods, Love Leader;
sandbag fear’s crest for exodus.
Tongue of Fire, be my mantra;
Cleansing Breeze, synchronize our breaths.
Summon today’s Berrigans,
tomorrow’s Harriet Tubmans.