For M.D. (#1)

write something on the window so
my memory will become a dream

stand lilies on their broken
stem-ends so my dreams can
fly to the rooftops

introduce the inconsequential
to the bottom of a blue sky
so the birds, when they
look down, won't see us

let them dive of their own free will
to the tree that was meant for them

how many sparrows can rest in a broken heart?
how many songs rustle from their feathers?

what will be my penance for
a misdirected prayer?
we pray through the ether
we pray through the words

let my conversation be sewed up
in a prayer, like an enchilada,
so my children will understand me