The Articles of Prayer


Wake, the day has not begun,
let the sleeping sleep.
The first light from the rheumy sun
emerges from the deep.

The draught we drank is gone, the ones
we drank it with are dead.
We touched the moon and now it slowly
circulates our bed.

Talk to me of times gone by,
the all translating wine,
And on the bosom of the dawn
teach me the divine.

Slowly, slowly, rich with choice,
caress me with your care,
And in the elocution voice.
the articles of prayer.

from The Erotics of God (Smokestack Books, 2005), copyright © Sebastian Barker 2005, used by permission of the author and the publisher.

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