Bones and Beads
There's a wicker bin in a blue flame corner.
Overflowing onto the rooftops of broken homes.
Empty hospital beds - the echoes from bomb craters.
Into war zones and shrunken veins of hopelessness...
A billion words in the bin-wrapped in burlap ribbons.
Sewn into the satin fabric of faith.
Pulsing with heartfelt wishes.
Rosary beads ground into fingerprint whispers.
Filling with tears and desperation.
There's a bin in a forgotten corner.
Overflowing with the bones of unanswered prayers.
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