Coated coppery prayers

             The mind reels the film. Coated in layers of
memories. Unwind and watch it roar out of control. Shh
holding onto a hope. Need so badly a moment where
here I am understood just for that tiny bit of a second.

            Oh how the wind picks up and dances coppery
strands. Striving so hard for me to resist the tickling
sensations.

          So careful I have decorated my shelves. The
intricate details settled deep into the right points.
To have just chaos vibrate will cause great mistakes.

         So daringly I carve a sweet echo into the air.
Hearing only the faded joy dividing amongst spirit
and soul. The sighs that released are damaging.

         Seated on concrete and iron I stop to
roll thoughts inside my mind. Preparing for just
the soothing breath. The hope that is all that is
necessary.

        So clear the sky feels against my clouded mood.
Trying to stand in the sunlight, still, so much is
weighted. Demanding the soul to just drop away.

      So close I strive to press the words. Opening the
truth to an opportunity of trust. Still the uncertainties
damage the nerves.

       Careful of how I tread. Not sure if the location I
place my foot is solid, sturdy. Yet I place it there because
I once prayed for a moment of grand grains to travel
deep inside. Holding me firm wherever, whenever I
go into any one stayed destination.

      Oh how the designs of the day break free and my
mind releases the pent up emotion. Down, down, down
to parchment. Echoing the sob to make any one person
see.

      Still I don't want help. This stubbornness just
makes a slash against the silliness. Holding down the
deep breath as the wind tears at my face.

     Demanding me to bring my face to look up.
Uplifting my eyes to Jehovah, holding inside me a prayer.
One that I cannot know the words yet I scream the
meanings for all who can read me well.

     Not asking. No I am not going to request you to
help me. I only hope Jehovah pushes you at me. I hope
the need you feel, compelled to want to hold me. I pray
for a smallness in an echoing willingness to just
find your mind. Tickle you thoughts long enough to
wonder, to want to ask.

     There I will be waiting. Yes at the end of a concrete,
iron step. Holding onto a tight prayer and one
glimmer of lightning hope.

         A flash of joy just may be held inside your
eyes. Demanding me to stack my soul and increasingly
drive my spirit to a soaring moment.

                   I hope. I pray.
                               Who knows who is listening.