Fireflies and Cupped Palms


The act of prayer
is a digression from our lives.
We cup the wind with hopes
to catch the eye
observing from the skies.
Disguised,
while streets clear of life-
darkness plays the best role of night;
and much like when I was a child,
I cupped the wind many times
hoping to catch fire flies in flight.

I would reach my hands out for better
intentions that when they opened together,
I would see the light.

Yet, much like my childhood days,
I would find my open hands
empty.

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