Tuesday, July 04, 2006

here, where Your Light speaks

I shall call on You today.
You who can make dust talk
and dirt sing.

I shall call from the symbiotic
from the simmering feast of this body.
I shall turn every iota
into Your own prayer.

In the dim dialect
of tissue-
in the fevered hive
I shall find a way through.

Even mud and mire
loves You
Your flowers bloom-
and earth speaks.