A Writer's Prayer

               The dark screams
               listen to the light

               sight validates
               the deep abyss

               somehow mellos
               painful hues

               this is the meat
               on poetry's bone

               without big words
               without thick wax

               I am
               your binoculars

               they'll focus like opals
               in morning dew

               if you borrow mine
               for a tiny spell

               I hope I'll make you
               want your own

               find a way
               to make them git

               publication has a job
               to punctuate a pilrimage

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