Down from mountain’s euphoria. Jesus arrives.

You see him, Lord?
You see him?
For years this awful mess.
He scarcely can express himself
Can’t even wash or dress.
His antics get folks going
They fear what might come next.
He roars in hot frustration
Sore lonely and sore vexed.
The doctors see no answer.
Sedation and restraints.
The seizures come so quickly
He thrashes, then he faints.
And I the father helpless
Must stand and watch again
As fear and doubts disable
Your followers, Lord, your men!
Oh won’t you intervene, Sir
And make the darkness flee
And cause the sun to re-appear
For one poor lad, for me?


Prayer is Jes Talkin’


I's here aginAn ah have so few woidsBut it's the gittin togethaMost mattasAh believe.

And You has the timeFathaAlways has the timeLookin down fromBrilliance an GlorySettin aside those angels' songsJes to consider ma squallinOr ma pleadin,

Ma thankin or my
Plain ole wonda.
Dis ole man
Done had many a hard job
Often cruel or stupid orders
From tha Man.
A spell in the joint
An keen ears an
A much sharpened shiv
Jes ta raise up the odds.
Afta dark.
An a wife and two chillen
Hardly knew me afta
The twelve year stint.
But you knows me
You stick in dere fo me.
And you brought  
Some good folks
Crosst ma path
Prayin and heppin
An smilin folks.
Ah can almose smell
Yo Spirit on em.
Second chances and singin.
Friendly talkin nights
Clean woik now.
Ah sketches a little as well
Scenes of pain, hope or joy
Two of em sittin
Up now on the library wall
Folks considerin
Provin dis ole man
Sees an thinks
Feels an releases
Fatha you have ma devotion
Such as tis.
An ma good repote.
I love Ya
Gwine stop now ta
Read Psalm one-oh-seven.
Name-a-Jesus
Ayymann.