On Audio Here
The leaves
fall
like years,
Lord
My palms
upturn
to the naked sky
and I beseech Thee
The skies are turning
into snowclouds
above the Eastern skyline
while the trees
are still green
young,
and tender
Do you know
that when I lie down
at night
the wind,
she whispers names
I almost know them
by heart,
this song
My poem, my prayer
It's like a music box
that plays continuous
inside my chest
behind my sternum
sending blood
rushing
to my organs and limbs
sustaining life
existence,
only
If only
My poem, my prayer
were heard by one
gifted with sight
to recognize the light
of You
that resides within me
To feel the energy
of the Earth
alive within my breath
To look into my eyes
and know
that I am
a sentient being
To see my beauty
like one sees rivers and lakes
and stands
in absolute awe
of the wonder
of creation
Dear God,
How many poems and prayers
must I write
before I am seen
by those
who recognize
your
voice?
© Susan Marie
