I lift my hands and settle there
The home, I’ve found, for empty prayers
Words of broken, beaten meaning
Now the tears must come streaming
Have I fought and won despair?
How everyday I’ve woken up
The darkest chai in my cup
Sure of death, yet absent thought
For anything I might have wrought
Breathe in and out, don’t think too hard
Breathe in and out, you’ll think too far
Inevitability is coming dear
And everything you’ve ever feared
What happens now? How do I fare?
And is there time, for one more prayer?
foto – north bello nov 2010