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I was wakened by a prayer for you


Where both the clock

and the too meager first light of day

both failed to wrest my weary soul

from Morpheus’ grip, tenacious

though after all so tender in its way –

I was wakened

by a prayer for you

masquerading as a poem

lodged in the depths of my aching heart.

At once I knew it as something

better than my thoughts and I fought to capture it

so that I might make of it a gift for you.

But it was made from gossamer mists

and so soon slipped away.

What you read now is only a shadowy part –


It was a prayer for you

yet for me

and still all for you –

And a prayer

that in our gain

others might not lose –

That you would find peace and joy

and be led strongly upon your path

yet not be bereft of the right,

the forbearance to choose.

That waking poem has mostly left me.

Gone as the whisper

of some dream of unspoken hope

evaporated into

the sufficient cares of day.

No wondrous gift this, my love;

just more water in the sea of words:

the droplets bursting

in their eager earnestness –

making their forever case

for your heart with mine to stay.