Lines of Pray

Moonlight radiates upon the purity of white bark

Wrapping round the clearing; defying the dark

 

Brother wolf calls out across the night air

Beckoning the night to gather the land’s children:

 

“Come all lost of desire

Bring your secrets to the fire

 

Come all that are blind

Bring your closed eyes to find

 

Come all that are muted of poetry

Bring thoughts of the birch tree”

 

And,  they circled around the blaze

That burns away all false praise.

 

So remain the redemptive ashes of the long day;

To rise among the birch stands with lines of pray.