Prayer Threads in the Night

The threads of prayers
hang against the electrical wires of our existence.

Requiring nothing, they ware.
Failing to reach an other, gravity pulls them to the earth.

The threads received nothing.
Their reflection of simplicity contrasts the chaos of our pleas.

The blanket of darkness covers the threads.
Trying to forget their existence, the threads pretend to sleep.
But their allusion is broken by the moonlight.

Afraid to face their destination,
they impatiently sway in the night air–
waiting for the rest of the prayer to hang fully naked in the empty darkness.

This is good Kristalyn. This is very good.

Thanks. But what is very good about it?

It spoke to me just then, for various reasons.

“Requiring nothing…Failing to reach an other…
…waiting for the rest of the prayer to hang fully naked in the empty darkness.”

That’s what poems do sometimes. They speak to us. Through the kind of metaphor you have produced here, your poem allows the reader to share in the creativity. That’s all you can ask of a poem.

i need my scissors cut a thread over here,and that one,oh that one over there to,lol this is fun