This is a prayer for the fish I never caught
in the pond at my friend’s ninth birthday.
May your fickle souls rest in peace,
and may you forever be grateful
that you never built up the courage
to bite the bait.
This is a prayer for all the thunderstorms I missed
while I was fast asleep in my bed,
dreaming of odd wonder-scapes,
or perhaps nothing at all.
May I live to hear more thunder roll
and see more lightning strike
and feel more rain across my cheeks.
This is a prayer for the letter I couldn’t bring myself to send
because the words were too delicate
and my hands shook too much writing them.
In hindsight, perhaps you were best left unsent.
Stamps are expensive nowadays.
May you yellow gracefully in my desk drawer
as a reminder of how much I can truly feel.
This is a prayer for the friends I left behind,
the one I met at camp and never called,
the one I let move away without a goodbye,
the one who traveled a world away without leaving her doorstep.
May you find your peace and let me find mine.
I am proof that there is such a thing as life without you,
but then again
you are proof that there is such a thing as life without me.
This is a prayer for the poem I never wrote
because the portrait I painted so eloquently in my mind
dissolved into primary-colored chaos on the page.
May my words never fail me
and may my pencil stay sharp
and my pages remain crisp.
Amen.
