O dim sky. O constellation of voices.
Let us lift our hearts to the liminal.
Praise be to the sorrows, the confessions,
the despair disrupted by draining
the personality-reflection pool.
What am I learning here?
How to blaze out in tears?
How to watch my days fade?
How to depart life empty
of everything but grief?
How to be like the rock I sit on:
may we mark each other’s graves, this stone and I.
may we watch over each other until all else fades.
What I want is not possible,
is as reckless as my species –
so let me lie back
and breathe the sky
into song
and weave
another prayer
for possibility
and a strong heart.
