Thousand Red Birds

While sorting through all of the crap I have in boxes, I found this poem-prayer, Thousand red birds, by Phil Porter written on the back of a notebook from last semester. I thought I would share.

Thousand Red Birds

We clutch our tiny bits of faith in tight fists.

Shoved firmly in our pockets.

We clutch it suspiciously, so unwilling to let it go—

we don't want to lose it.

We clutch it fearing that once it is spent,

we will be without hope,

cast adrift, out of luck.

Help us loosen our grip.

Help us to pull our hands out of our pockets.

Help us to uncurl fingers stiffened over time.

to grow,

to shimmer,

to pulse,

to explode into the air

like a thousand red birds.