let this whole day be my prayer
wrapped in the arms of an imagination
that loves so much it spills over
with endless beauty
unnoticed, pushed aside, destroyed
as the empty totems are so busily tended
day in day out

but let this whole day be my prayer
paused in stillness breathing the mystery
seeing all the startling details
as each dulcet note plays 
for me for us
how and why did we ever turn our backs to this
it’s a pretty crazy game
everyone forced to play
can’t we just walk away, somehow

eyes, heart, breath, hand 
know the truth and pant for it
right here underneath the detritus of our dementia
but each whole day was and is our prayer
each step a wordless devotion


16 thoughts on “prayers

  1. Beautiful and thought-provoking; thank you for sharing. I will ponder your sentiments for a while.
    “Loves so much it spills over… how and why did we ever turn our backs to this…”
    It even inspires me to write and to dig deeper into life’s philosophy.

      1. You’re very welcome. Poetry is like a painting to me, everyone has a different perspective as to what they think it’s about. The not knowing for sure is what makes it interesting. ( Unless of course it’s obvious, lol).

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