Prayers for the volcanoes
that need garlands when they erupt
and prayers for the freeways
you never drive them the same twice,
prayers for the buds
that look like babiesí faces
as they open next week and for the blossoms
opening their soft legs to bees.
Prayers for everything the soul
must reluctantly or passionately kiss:
a pebble in the shoe,
the silt gritty on your ocean-washed lips.
Because what is a prayer
but a laugh that canít be formed
in letters, but only heard
in that place that, praised, lights up.
So prayers for everywhere
that needs them,
Prayers for the worms washed out
of the grass onto driveways,
prayers to step over as they swim
because you canít pick them up
without damage. So much
of the heart can only be helped
without direct touching.
Prayers for everyone
in the throngs who need well-wishes
to suck on in their sleep
like giant glowing lollipops.
Prayers going to every restless sleeper
on this earth who needs a cool hand on the brow.
Prayers for their own sake,
prayers as beautiful as dolphins
leaping and twisting, prayers
freed from gravityís pull
to fly glistening into the air.
From†Gods of Water and Air†(Aldrich Press, 2013).
Used with the authorís permission.