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