Poem by Deborah Priestly

Painting by Deborah Priestly



And We Pray This Way

Dark streets reveal the inner beats of the heart
felt deep where lips meet lips
                 eyes open to reveal loneliness unfulfilled again,
                 we meet this way, behind the walls
                 of the city, one obstacle after another
                 cars, alarms, ambulances and shouts
                 from the street, the only quiet peace being
the distant half faced observer above
winking with an eager forgetfulness
a better choice, wouldn’t you say
but this night drowns in wet touch.

I feel your hands trace the cuts of paths unknown
I have felt these little deaths before and moaned
knowing the significance of one moment only
how one breath marks the essence
of a dream untold--and I convinced myself once
it could never happen, art like love can not paint itself
or can it? The moon half filled watches over...
begging for its forgiveness, so much wanting
so much needing...but the moon gives its light freely
waiting and blessing, blessing and waiting
as devoted as it can be--and we pray this way
and we pray this way, you and I.