The stranger walking in front of me is singing the song You gave me
this morning. I won't begrudge Him; I want to sing it too.
I can hear the melody in my heart, but I can't feel the right notes;
my voice is off pitch beause it's Your breath coming
over my vocal cords; not my own.
Keep breathing, Lord, breathe out through me.
It feels like death because it is.
But this resucitation is libation.
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