Perhaps we should shave our heads
And say a prayer
She giggles
I see my father in my face
It is what I have become
We buy flowers
Make a display
Lush as a beard
All colours and scents
Make and mends
She bows her head
I am not sure I like men
She says
Building blocks
Matchboxes and books
We are not bitter
But we do not like to lose our words
It is all we have
The story at our feet
The prayer
The silently mumbled words
We pay due reverence
To the monks
Comb our hair out
Let the tangles fall in the sink
We are so very tired
That is why we lie still
Hand in hand
Prayer in prayer.
I especially love the lines from"The story at our feet" on down........hand in hand and prayer in prayer....just lovely.
ReplyDeleteI don't think you are in much danger of losing your wonderful words, which you use so beautifully!
ReplyDeleteA prayer,hand in hand that's all that matters
ReplyDeleteAmazing - I have many poems regarding tonsures.
ReplyDeleteThe Tired Monk.
"Hand in hand and prayer in prayer" I like that!
ReplyDeleteI wonder whether these are monks who have taken a vow of silence and lost their words. . .
ReplyDeletea reverence for words... well it was the word that brought light and then the life of man began. I think that's Matthew. I adore your writing and they way you think, your choice of words always fascinates me!
ReplyDeleteThis is a powerful poem. And I learned the meaning of a new word.
ReplyDeleteWords are the building blocks of ideas. I love this post.Nice.
ReplyDelete