psalm 61: bleeding out

photo credit:

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i’m calling out to you but i’m
fairly sure you can’t hear my cries,
not as long as i’m dwelling on the
far edges of the earth.

that’s how it is out here:
your prayers bleed out endlessly like
a wound never staunched and never healed,
an ever-rising sun that spreads fire
across the horizon but never
turns night into day.

so until my prayers reach their
destination you can find me here:
tending to my wounds, wrapping and
unwrapping the bandages, watching
the words fly free into the
eternal night sky.

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