Prayers are private. Laws are public. MAKE. NEW. LAWS.

by Mae Currell

I am weary

Of the hiding-

In-fox-hole prayers

Artful in their folds

Loopholes and crevices

For squirming and reframing

And scurrying


Prayer is an open field

It is upraised



Receptive like a lightning rod

To be a conduit of spirit

The field does not skulk


Prayer is the nest

Holding the collapsed

Who weep and rage and wonder

If the egg isn’t broken

Stamped by iron feet

The nest does not slink


Save your hiding prayers

Spirit’s skirts enfold

They do not shield rhetoric.