My generous hands
forgot how to pray.
I watched the butterfly
rise on strong winds
hoping that in the opening
and closing
of her silent wings
I might remember.

My heart is vacant.
The words all wandered off
and I've been searching-
for what
I can't name.

Hands wide open
and waiting.

My knees tremble-
ache-to please again.
But my hands won't remember
and the words won't come back