adventures in dysthymia

Monday, June 07, 2004

PRAYER

She was my litany, her name
The only prayer my heart would speak;
The only heaven I could seek
Lay in her power to reclaim
This soul.
What toll
Is paid the ferryman to cross
His water, once more join the living?
In water lies the great forgiving,
The baptism to wash all dross
Away.
Why stay
Among these shades? They grow more dim,
More empty with each torment they
Inflict upon themselves. I pray,
I sing, to Love in hopeful hymn:
Deliver me,
Deliver me
From yesterday.

Stephen Brooke ©2004

More a playing with form than a piece actually about anyone specifically. No, it is definitely not about the former long-term GF, although I suppose I borrowed some of the ideas and feelings expressed from that part of my heart. And some from more recently.

Other news in the Lad's life: the art show on Saturday was so-so. Poorly organized, small crowds, but nice people. They'll learn...I hope! I passed out more business cards than at some very large shows. One never knows what may come from a bit of simple promotion like that. Some of my note cards sold, so my costs were partially defrayed. I may or may not try to do a show on Labor Day weekend in the same general area, but a little closer to Gainesville.

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