I can remember the other day when the light came on,
it shined out into a fury in the air
and split like the branches held razors.
All I could do was stare into anything that could be seen,
but nothing would help hide me, only show me
all the things I could never respond to,
like the fun names that people call me when I’m looking,
looking them in they eye and waiting for a laugh.
These are my quiet prayers,
the moments I keep silent,
like keeping to myself
when the birds sing
and everything else
seems too beautiful to fully remember.