Tuesday, July 7, 2009

On Deck

All my prayers
are sailor's words,
trying to push the rain.

For three days
soldier grey cumulus
hid the arc of hawks.

Before pillows cool my head
I'm up, counting moons.
Is He walking on waves tonight ?

I'd call out through the storm,
but I know you too,
are waiting to hear your name.

1 comment:

Michael Matters, Inc said...

do my words try to push the rain or do they actually push?

is the arc of hawks a sign of hope or danger?

maybe I don't know whats best for me, so my sailors words be few.