Invitation for Prayer

It’s not just because it’s one foggy spring morning,

White blossoms of the dwarf weeping cherry transform

The bare branches, it’s the warmth of the compost,

With diligent worms working in the dark and cold.

The love grows, sending muse not just to me but to us,

The way we are fed and love the world,

Rumple the way into the woods and back home.

Because of the many ways the world is made,

And spoken of in and around doors–

Some are ready to fling open for everyday

Poem, but not everything is poetry. 

Contradiction layers the rainbow,

Everything is not poetry, but the muse

Walks working in and around us.

It’s not just to make the world magical,

But to justify, move forward—bringing the historical boxes

Out of the museum, to see the layers of the rainbow

In its own light.

It’s the way I love the world through the loss and joy—

They pray with compassion and forgiveness.