Prayer



In the beginning was the word

……………………………… —John 1:1

send a poem that hunkers
waiting for day to begin, 
for the right word to come
in the last hours of a night
while all sleep but a watcher
who rustles in the underbrush
send the wordless sound
of something shifting in the dark

in the underpinning of the day
between now and now
at end of night at touch of light
a poem that doesn’t lie
doesn’t yield
stands its ground
but 
doesn’t
smite

.

by Jim Culleny
7/7/14

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