Imperfect prose

prayer for a friend

Two hands crack open the morning with beauty

Splitting the darkness into a thousand shards of light

And there, in that place

of broken shimmering

you stand

bare and exposed

You've come, just like everyday prior

with the desire to receive the goodness, the abundance, the gifts

but there is a hesitancy

then the moment when you become aware of your nakedness

your vulnerability

and you pause

conflicted

Staying and going and standing and falling

Questions born in a rabbit hole

pulling you in closer as you spiral

round

and

round

It's not as clear as those mornings when you woke

groggy with newborn dust and warm joy bundles rode the waves of your chest

when hours melted into days and weeks and all was full, yet light

There is a heaviness now that hinders

that makes moving rote rather than rhythmic

You can't help but think of that time you hiked for miles

pounds and pounds upon your back

all the provisions one person could possibly need, tucked safely away

And you took that offer for a ride

jumping into the bed of that pickup, feeling the wind piercing your cheeks

watching the world whiz by in a blur of color and sound

Not until you stopped in the next town did you realize that you had never bothered to take off your pack

As if the ride wasn't enough

When does it all equal out?

the good and the bad

the light and the darkness

the yes and the no?

When?

And what ever shall you do in the inbetween time

When you've got feet on either sides of the great divide

straddling all that you want and all that you have?

Where will you land?

And then you feel two hands cracking you open with beauty

splitting darkness into a thousand shards of light

and there

in that place of broken shimmering

you

stand.