Container of Time

Contour maps stretch across my hands and curl around my knuckles

A texture defines my flesh as worn and weathered

Prayers clasped intertwined by the cascading dawn my breath breathes into you

You the air that takes and feeds this aspen rattling like a snake above me

Shaking out the wild days of summer 

heat cooking unripe leaves green dying into tie-dying amber, orange, and burnt ember hues

I have learned from watching the mountain jay to call for you relentlessly

Frenetically my heart rates the day accordingly when I fear that you have not heard

I am that racketeering parade cawing for more 

Far more from you 

that flaring galactic appeal you who stands in the enigmatic corners of each miscalculation of eternity a distance I cannot see

You measure me with your genetic codes your divine Leggos 

You who has mass appeal but no mass can appeal to what you are

You who is the glue or the field

I drop my head to say,

"You are listening." But, no ears receive the sounds

The sounds have ears; they are listening to their own body

They inhabit space because a habit of space is to find shape

empties itself of space to make place for your form

See, room is made for every creature or act of creation

I look at the contours of my hand curling around a container of time

One day that container will break and pour into you.

Steep me in your holy fire
Ablaze the cacophony?
Ablaze the trembling plain cascading down to
The city erupts with temptation
For more
For me I confront my gain my needs my necessities
Who be gone? Who woefully sins like a tired vacant lot empty on a busy Sunday morning
You who be gone on this day of plenty
Deep down into the face of your name, your calling
The breath of your infancy curls into many steaming signals into the air
Suspended, holding out for your soul to come forward
Step forward before you die
Little men pouncing in big suits wearing lean ties
Little men, step forward before you die
What matters to you?
The bottom line or the soul that had descended into you?
Every measure that you take calculates
Every lie that you tell drains from your face
The power
You amongst the many are empty
The many chant the prayers of their ancestors
The water that feeds this land is protected
We are everywhere.

Prayer

Steep me in your holy fire