Poem — The Prayer

I saw a thing of beauty today;

six Canadian geese preening each other in the sunlight

at the edge of a toppling waterfall.

I wondered, knowing the drop-off was near,

how did they love each other so completely?

How did they absorb the splendor in the day at the very edge of annihilation?

 

But of course, they can fly. It was only an afterthought.

I’ve flown before at the edge of the abyss, two nights ago, in fact.

 

I suffered for the violent current pulling me toward the sprinklers of heaven.

Or, what might be mistaken for heaven,

as I only borrow what others believe and when I pray,

it’s not as if I know what I’m doing.

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