biro supplication

May these sour lessons
seek to softly temper my mettle
so that I can withstand
the cold and fire.

Wire my branches
so I can stand tall enough
to face the sun's encouragement.

Give me breath yet
that I may voice hope
and abandon disappointment
for the dream
that was not meant to be.

Release me of the chains of habit
so that I might see through fresh eyes
the morning dew
like tiny lenses.

when I open the
heavy front door
and step out again
into the quiet morning
may I learn
to take a joke
in its intended spirit
and see through the veneers of wax
that keep me from the true centre.

Release the muted nightingale
from her dark labyrinthine prison
and may too the dove
norms calm tidings
from welcoming lands.

Overturn the gilded mirror
and show me my true face
that I may wear it without shame
and bring me through
the crackling yellowed hallways
of confusion and into sanctuary
that I might set myself down
and do something useful
and maybe find pleasure in it.