Boundless, vast, and peaceful,
Let my palpitating, fragile body
Become like a living prayer.
Let this breath, this steady pulse,
Elastic skin and fluttering lids,
Twitching muscles, twisting viscera,
Fluids, bone, and sinew
All profess a singular, sacred,
Precise and passionate vow,
The kind that meadowlarks
Make of the morning light,
Because they have wings.
Friday, December 17, 2010
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