• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 09
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In Prayer

Tape the color of nothing - not
dried sweat, salty tears,
nor palpable fear - and bandages
wrapped of wrinkled judgments -
silences and suffocates tho
wrongly accused - yet neither binds
nor conceals the glory of life - awash
in hues of fire-engine red, grass
stained green, and turquoise blue, within.
Brushes of pinks and purples. Neon
yellow, too. A world where all voices
sing and harmonies are shared freely.
Eyes shutter in order to see,
hear, taste, touch, smell - and Breathe
the world as we wish it to be. All
serve someone. Hands lock.

We continue to pray.