You know those old mail slots?
In the old movies
from a world long ago,
with buildings stacked
to dizzying elevations?

Where you’d see envelopes
slip down by
like white birds zipping
through the dark,
as they sped
down their windowed postal shaft,
at an elevator stop station?

sending prayers up
is somewhat like that. . .
a lot of eyes will see them pass
before they reach
their final destination. . .

And then,
sometimes, you have to wait a while
for the answers’
return track
to reach you back
despite your maybe long and taut
anticipation. . .

And the form they take
may not always
clear, quick sense make
to your current view
of what might bring you
further toward a state of progress
or much needed restoration.

Oh, well,
I guess you knew
the problem might be fodder
for further meditation.

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s