Tuesday, April 2, 2019

Blogger in Draft Valentine

My poems are my faded prayer-flags
They turn in the wind like all I’ve got
Their bones slip away
 
It’s just this slipping
I pray to encounter
Of one prayer into another
 
My streaming one connection
With the Allmindedness
Who must be listening
 
Eagerly to each prayer
Not for its supplication
Nor hardly for its fear
 
But that here in the wind
There is still
Someone there

No comments: