Traffic

                                           I
Three people on a horse
strong Honda horse, that gallops on rounded hoofs
that peel and screech
everytime we tramp its reins.
God's eye is asleep, and
the sky is left to die,
we are left with the moon
to guide us, keep us
on black paths as we ride on Honda horse.

My horse is one in a thousand, we
are a pack of languid heroes lined
side by side by side by side-
neighing to war,      some,
racing to warmth,     others,
and our tails are shaded red.

                                          II
Mother must take us home,
alive not dead, only alive.
Jesus has conquered death
we will too, I think.
but we must first     die      to conquer
death, we
must die like He did,    we must!
How do we cross Jordan?
How do we cross Jordan with Jonah
juggling our fates in his sleep?
His snores whisper death, his snores;
they tickle Hades.
How do we get home with our cross
in the hands or Jonah?

                                        III
*click*click
"This one's for facebook", said the fish-
Stagnant waters had stiffened
his legs, stagnant waters had
over time given him time to walk-
to walk and snap horses; to walk.

Loki and his coterie mock
the Paling horses, their laughter is atter
to our courage-
they offer a path without storm
where our horse would roam free
on black grass;          "one-way"
they called it-
A free runway for my languid horse.
I                was                 happy,
I was.

                                        IV
We tried to wake Jonah, gut
He was dead, we tried,        we
tried to wake him.
I tried to wake Jonah, but
He was dead, I tried,            I
tried to wake him.
Hades had taken from us his friend,
So we slept too-
We slept and galloped to the other side
We followed Loki-
Mother swerved from Hell
to Hell fire.
Hell fire was just as we'd heard-
Devoid of black grass
desolate and rocky
but we loved it,               I loved it
and the Honda horse did too
So he galloped all the way
till we got to heaven-            home.