psalm 4-something

 

too tired for capital letters

proper phrasing and

reliable numerals

 

I extend my hope

my hand is open

 

will I have it when I draw it back

will it be empty with some taken off

will it be an open plain upon which is

 

something of a gift

something to keep me going

source of sustenance

symbol of believing

 

even the lines on my palm

might tell me as they intersect

that patterns are really chaos

without some understanding

 

nothing gnostic or occult

no wise artificial secrets

 

only openness, like a hand,

 

when the act is fragile

ready to receive whatever

you place on me to do

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