Hour Nine: The Oppressed

I give to you the gift of a seed
The seed a thought
The thought a seeing
Vision into, behind, beyond
From depth of night through pearly dawn
From noonlight’s glare to the dusk of dream
I give you the gift of a heart a-wing
A-wing it sees with raptor’s eyes
Sustaining truths, rends what hides
Rendered flesh to bone to ash
Feeding soil that roots hold fast
Delving depths where bedrock lies
Stretching up to frothing skies
Stern the voice that thus does speak
Gifts in turn its own strong seeds