do not let me wail into the darkness without an
answer; though bombs may fall and my
brothers be shot down in their backyards
and tyrants grapple with bloody hands for
the scepter, do not let my voice vanish as
an echo against the walls of your throne room
give me a desire to release and to hold, fingers
to clutch close to my heart the figure of an
orphaned baby whose face is painted with the
colors of war; give me strength to release the
dreams that I made with colored pencils and
puppy stickers when I was five years old.
hold me up with peace even when the forecast
is singed with flames, when I distrust those
who hold my hand and whisper I love you over
starched white pillowcases, when a smile means
that I have wandered into a trap and tears mean
that I have found home among the thunderstorms.
help me to see your purpose in the gutters, in the
shattered emptiness of a broken mirror, in the
eyes of my worst enemy holding a gun to my
father’s head; help me to see you in black-and-
white letters, in telescopes and gentle willows
along the riverside where I make my nest.
let hopelessness flee away from me, let selfish
brokenness and greedy dreams become demons
that you have cast away; let me even have the
desire to open my heart to you, without fear that
you will leave scars that will brand me as lost
and lonely even through the halls of eternity.
let me dance again someday,
and truly mean every motion of the hand,
curl of the fingers,
note of the song,
and let the fears
fall with the sound
of the curtain.