Thursday, January 6, 2011

Soul Saliva

the incense drifts under the incandescence
sometimes swirling like the Milky Way
and prayers are offered

audible words of faith and wonder
like spitting into a soup can
they hit and dribble down

I hear the echo in them
like the swirling of the Milky Way
they hang under the coherence

peering into the can I can
see evidence of a fainted
universe distilled in rings

then one voice in stillness
lay in a tin silo
standing  with a string dangling

and on the other end
a burning, a glow scented
of frankincense

and the smoke rises
and wanders while
I keep spitting prayers

1 comment:

So, you made a little time to stop by. You are welcome any time...speak freely.