Until

fallow ground... lips tremor, speaking nothing in the language of false gods. there can be no healing until you see the disease, smell the rotting flesh.... until the souls of the invisible gather around you, and you take your self back in. until the words you speak are built on action wrapped in the forms of compassion.... until you ask forgiveness of the mountains, the rivers, and the sky.... until... you nurse the baby at your own breasts... until you wash your hands in the blood of the innocents.