Panata

To pray, I no longer rely
on the language of the memorized,

on the round of mysteries made
by pressing thumb and index finger

around a carved wooden bead,
then dropping to the next. Now

and at the hour, to pray is
the whole shattered vessel

of the body’s need; and the spirit
propelling it forward on its knees.

 

In response to Via Negativa: Scientist.

Leave a Reply