The Prayer

The dusk beckoned us both to prayer one day
You lay yourself prostrate along the bed
And I knelt and stared the opposite way
Though tempted to look upon you instead.

Opposed, yet side-by-side, our hearts did sedate
But as two who cross along a narrow trail —
Each sure of his route to the Garden Gate —
We smile regretting they shall surely fail.

At last I swerve my head from right to left
And gaze upon the blossoming night ahead —
Your meditations heed not the evening’s theft —
My prayer sealed with a kiss upon your head.

November 13, 2004

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