_______(in progress)

Last night a freight train rumbled through my midnight
Like it had a breakfast date with the sunrise
Like it was born pushing its self
toward that horizon line
and outside, the bull frogs
Are reminding me that its spring
That the whole world isn't dead
Just its life-lines are sleeping
And I
Have been sleeping.
Praying that universe would open me up
all the while keeping my hands over my eyes
trying to hold my eyes shut
And I guess the moral of the story is
Be careful what you wish for
I may have wished myself a window
But the gods have dreamed me a door
A starting point
A threshold
a place to
hold
onto me.

But

I don't believe in perfection
But I do believe in magic
I am no perfect man
I've got cracks down my ribcage
that would make the grand canyon jealous
And I believe that sometimes
hurt is endless
and healing comes when you least expect it.
I still pray everyday
But I stopped calling it god
And started calling it grace
Starting seeing all that I had been looking for
In a bottle of permission
A ritual
A rite
And face paint.