Prayers Written at MIdnight

I.

It is in these earliest hours,

gazing out from inside

those quiet spaces

where the heart of a woman

dreams alive

everything it has always feared

to wish for

aloud. I know full well

I probably should not

be thinking of you. But you

come, unbidden.

 

Outside,

a nighthawk is calling;

demanding that I search for:

those places where

fallen fruit picks itself

up off the ground,

among other impossible

things.

 

II.

We are not formless ideas,

we are made, after all,

to be touched. Even that time

we spend as dances

that have no steps.

 

For I know that hands

that understand how to hold

and appreciate fine art,

are also hands that can

love a woman into awakening

into herself.

 

You never know

how deeply you can

be found

until someone reads your scars

like fine literature

written in braille

across your entire body.

 

III.

Before I discuss any of this

with you, I guess

what I am asking,

do you think you could, again,

in one lifetime? I see your heart

drawn in sepia and woodblocks,

holding a bouquet of memories

from one who moved on,

without you.

 

Can this man, who knows

antique art forms, build

a new space on old foundations

dust off a forgotten

writing desk, light a few lamps

to soften the pace of life,

and recall anew

the lost art

of receiving love letters

from afar, drafted as

written prayers at midnight? 

for ALS

Author's Note

written while traveling. Inspired by a few conversations. Picture is my own artwork, a delphinium from my garden.

Reviews

[boygene borice]

Impressive poetry. I would read it over and over

[SkinlessFrank]

reminds me that there is always a duality in love relationships, the imagined lover and the one we must live and grow with....but still we walk the line between in our imagination

[Art]

Beautiful Marie, your thoughts could melt the mind of lovers with those words yearning to be spoken and you have, you have melted the poetic mind...beautiful...

[Dionysian Gnostic]

I see you have many treasures to share. I count myself fortunate to have found my way here.