Prayer

Arriving like the bees. 
into this unnamed place,
In love of beauty all is spent.

Here's no obstruction to the view,
but up and down and to the sides,
the wall of forms is coloured red.

Pray may we stay in gratitude.
Not spread our wings in vain,
at pulsing edge without a cent.

 
 Please tell, about the dream,
sweet spinning spell, 
what lies ahead, 
why dawn's a scheme
with drops of dew upon the thread?

 Half asleep,  I ask again
Is it too much in this dark night? 

To have a taste of life
 without the sting.
 
And then so loud and clear
 I hear the Robin sing;

Now wake and rise, come close, come tight 
 Inside each note is every sorrow.
This beam of light is shining on the morrow.

Alan