When your prayer falls
weighted and dull
at your feet,
betraying all your
brave and fragile
hope,do you kick it
scuffed and dusty
to the tangled ditch
or do you kneel
beside it on
that sharp gravel,
breathe on it
the heartbroken
breath of a child
collecting, with
tenderness, the hollow
bones and feathers
of a dying bird?
This is so, so beautiful..
Wow. This is a good one Kirsten.
tears spring to my eyes as I absorb the images here. evidence that something too deep for words has been touched. thank you.
Thanks for this, Kerri. I’m always honoured by the presence you bring to my words.