Autumnal

 

I pray.
I pray to the god of mountains, ships, and silver.
Finding trinkets worthless,
I chase ghosts that hide and dance and chide me.
Ravenous at night,
no silk or cotton fills me like her skin.
Candlelight gathers and overcomes.

Bring the holy time.
Sprinkle the pillow with fairy dust.
Take me to that place
where rest resembles reeds,
breeze-drawn and molten,
to be ravished by darkness,
cannibalized by hobgoblins of plainness and bridges.

Take breaths,
give rice, give wood.
These are yours.
What will be mine?
I listen, trust, obey.
Still you elude me
and I feel alone.
Every moment, you say, I’m guided.
All you comforting spirits,
let me sense you,
melt into these sheets,
buried by these quilts.

Honour me like a bough in springtime.
Favour me with granted wishes and abundant promise
like a field of pumpkins,
seeds bursting to life.
Rain and cold, unwelcome,
pain rising, insurgent,
tides of chaos and beauty,
leaves gusting in trees,
flickering in grey.
Lovers serve the curving act,
dogs show loyalties like seasons
and pancakes tempt the clever skeptic.

Love, lift this balloon to stars I’ve never seen,
remind me how life unfolds past recognition.
Make me worthy.
Show me strength.
I want to know about china and cheeses
smell the wet earth with you,
taste corn again, juices spraying off the cob,
dance close with you,
hear that parachute
descend into the compass hollow
where we rise,
fresh and fed.