A prayer

Photo culled from tripleeforum.blogspot.com

I pray to be borne aloft by tomorrow’s wings

And guided away from today’s malevolent selfishness,

From sights perceived only for the now, with eagle eyes

From arms that would comfort just my own,

And breasts that would feed only my children.

I pray deviation from a path leading predictably to nowhere,

Replete with gorges that swallow a multitude of dreams

And a fostered sun that scorches the soul black,

Wringing it of love’s soothing moisture,

Whilst wrenching from it kindness’s milk.

I pray the resurrection of wondrous ideas long dead,

The rekindling of noble thoughts wantonly extinguished,

That they may yet again thrive incarnated

In Vessels that will sing the songs of giving,

And dance the dance of receiving.  

The other room

I like me the feel of the other room

Of our birth, triumphs and wantonness.

A boundless space some say, of roiling va-va-voom.

A soulless place others say, of trenchancy and brutishness.

In its wallow, I am enveloped in purpose of an intense clarity.

In its embrace, an opacity and perdition

Of frightening parity.

I am surrendered to the wind of its uncertain seduction

As it charts its course of avarice and artifice.

I feel swept towards redemption from excess and unwholesome predilection,

That honey trap for casual sexism and corruption’s suffice.

In its throes I pray not for catastrophic loss of self and reason,

The other room of our centre’s miserable lack.

But rather me, love’s perpetually cheery season

which rains on us all, leaving its indelible mark.