Prayer flags begin as we do,
bright colors, full of the promise, like wishes on a dandelion.
People notice them, cheered by their vibrancy.
They oh-so-quickly fade, and begin to tatter here and there.
Many people take them down when they reach this stage,
unattractive as they are. . .
This is when they prayer force is vital,
as they should be hung until they tatter,
until all possible prayer-life-force is gone,
and the birds pull threads floating in the wind to line their nests,
and finally, the grey squirrel comes and steals them to warm her babies,
stuffing her cheeks fat as walnuts, busy busy, darting here and there, eyeing you,
giving you the gift of laughter, revitalizing!
This poem was written to thank my dear artist and writer friend whom I have never met, Susanissima, writing for NaPoWriMo. I am and will read every one of her poems, and because I am doing this I am learning to enjoy poetry, one day at a time. I haven’t written a poem since I was in high school, reading Rod McKuen and Kenneth Patchen and dreaming of true love and tragedy. But this week I wrote two!
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Images courtesy of Dkatiepowellart — That’s me too!