heard (for the sex trafficked beloved)

I heard her voice.

she sang a siren's story of fear filled

blistering oppression. ringing from the 

deepest valley, puncturing its sound

through the thick and unyielding darkness.

for her, I could do nothing of great measure or

importance. decided in its stead

 to bow down low to her tears and 

answer their call by catching the searing

grief upon the strength of mine own

bent back.

my hope, my desire was to allow her the

length of time called rest. I extended my hand.

palm up in openness. she caught ahold.

sighing languidly. as weariness seeped from her being

and sleep took notice of her soul. healing

her shatterings.

and she awakened to joy in the morning.

(Will you hear and respond to her call? Lift your hands and heart on behalf of the sex trafficked Beloved.)