Life at the Intersection

Poetry

Prayers Like Smoke

An offering

Dee Wilcox's avatar
Dee Wilcox
Aug 25, 2025
∙ Paid
My prayers rise sometimes
Like cold gray smoke
Almost colorless, opaque
The same words said over and over

Let them be well
Make this alright
Let them live
Let them not be angry

My prayers dance at night
Up across a moonless sky
Leaping like starlight
Full of hope and wonder

Let me be Love
Let me be Light
Make me Whole
Make me -- 

Sometimes my prayer…
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