Member-only story
The Deities Welcome Me, and I Kneel to Whisper My Prayers
A Prose Poem
the quiet laces its mouth into a smile, and I am just a witness as the sun dips low and makes itself a stranger for the moon to dance
gods of earth and shadow rest here, their heartbeats at my fingertips, my body an offering — a tithe apparent — to the things that quake in the dark of night
hush, hush, little bird — or so I imagine they say — as the wind caresses my hair with hands that could call down fire or grasp lightning as a sword
invisible makers, oh, they make me wonder why we thinks ourselves so mighty — even as the beasts of the plain skulk, showing that no mortal is ever safe within these bounds
the trees rustle as if they are speaking a language I can never know, and it takes everything in me to stay still and just be
my eyes close — hush, the voice trembles through me — and I know that my words may fall upon ears that will not hear their plea
but still I say them, my fervent prayers, because I want to believe the gods are merciful — at least more so than the mistakes of men, the places that brought me here, and the life I cannot escape on my own
hush, hush, hush — the words are like the racing of my heart — but the answer is just a lingering silence in the air
saved and spared from the slaughter — perhaps, perhaps — and only then do I raise my head high, as if I am triumphant, even as my heart is still a rabbit running through a maze
