Truth Is

Truth is
By Natascha Lewis

Truth is if by the end of the sermon, I don't get answers, I get in my feelings
Truth is my heart can barely escape the situations that I'm dealing
With. Remnants of the past visit every Saturday morning
Truth is in some ways I'm coming and in more ways, I'm going
At the same damn time, and the truth is no rhyme, no rhythm, no flow could ever know the reasons for
Where I go and what I sow; the burdens I tow
Truth is, although they're not more than I can bear, at times all I can belt out are silent yells...
Holding inside what my silent screams bellow
Truth is, I cry. 
Not only for myself, but for you, my sisters, my brothers, my children and alliances.
The truth is the power that I have inside my innermost thoughts that have the ability to change my atmosphere's whole appearance
Truth is
I still glow when my soul is mourning the absence of sun on top of my morning
So I wait for the answer to lay on my feelings and sooth her until the next question divulges from everything that is happening around me 
My thoughts are so cloudy 
That they form a delicate escape from the metacognitioning that pour out the purest wisdom. peace,  love, ambition, passion, resilience, endurance, and generosity. 
Truth is even though my answer is delayed, the process has not been cancelled, and I am not a damsel in distress, but a modest calamity
Truth is I'm always dreaming, always working, always thinking, always provoking.
Always pushing, at times pulling and restoring
Truth is, I get in my feelings at the end of a sermon if my answers haven't come
So... I'll... patiently... wait...until He gives me some.