A piece of pulped wood
smudged charcoal
fervent fingers
a primal prayer imprinted
burnt in a flash of flames
ashes ashes
they float like dust moats
momentarily suspended
till a gust of wind
send them scattering
far and wide
far and wide
the air swirls with prayers
an open jar
never full
Does anybody hear them?
…Does anybody hear
Them?

7 responses to “Prayer Jar”
Beautiful, Rafia. Evoking much in this poem. ❤️
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Thank you as always ! ❤ ❤
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You’re most welcome, Rafia. Always. ❤️❤️
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What wonderful focus between the italic lines and their counterparts! The last line was particularly stark.
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Thank you Jaya! for leafing through these pages and leaving your presence behind ^-^
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Beautiful Rafia…I think they are heard.. inside a jar or out..:).
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You think so? Sometimes…you wonder really in face of cruelty
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