A prayer to the morning

I
Ask for the blessing
I ask for your eye  
And knowing smile
 
When seeking  
And carving out
The brutal travels of hands
In stoned earth  
Of time  
Its squeeze of dirt  
Hiding footprints  
With the elliptical youth of days
Their revolution  
Into hardened tidiness  
 
I climb stories up
And time flings back
Into the recesses
To find cool and gentle rooms  
Where solitary men  
Had left red woven  
Rugs and charred prayers
Of rolling wax  
And a match to strike  
 
I begin it again
The flame is yellow  
It dances  
And sees me
I take this as a nod
A gesture of deliverance
 
And stand
 
Gazing out of doors  
To skied God
And the bellied drop below me
Tempts me to fall into it
Hurdle me from myself
Cry for mercy in my plummeting  
Wide awake to the impact  
And full force  
Of ground to belly
And my face to the desert floor
 
This is Set
 
I remember the cool chamber
My grip on the outcropping to pull up
The light that flickered
And how it found me
The dance of days on my skin
And in my head  
And from my tongue  
 
While laying here
While crumpled and cracked
With the body of utter defeat
With miserable failure  
My aspect and injury
 
I ask for the blessing  
I ask for your eye
And knowing smile
 
I begin it again
The flame will be yellow  
In my sight skied God  
And below me the fall