Sunday, January 10, 2010

Prayed tonight for a peppermint sunrise,
but the snow melts off the trees outside.

Lungs weave a lilting sigh: it's butterflies,
trapped in silent nights.

If icicles can hold their breath just a little longer,
we will wait to catch them in our mouths.

like flakes, we get a little stronger,
muffle a cry so no one finds us out.

I think He's all around us. I think He hears you breathe.
I think He's wrapped inside us. Even when we clench our teeth.

A fragment. Not folly. Subject predicts the fol-low-ing of:
His presence; we volley--treading water,
just to drench our skin with Him.

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