I pray for those who weep
alone on a bed of sand.
One holds a star in his hand
while the desert nightwinds reap
his blood and tears.
This leap
we take to an unknown land
(God, can you understand?)
on the farther side of sleep.
Soul travel touches vast
Saharas, seas, and clouds.
Grief whistles through the shrouds
to fall in a bitter rain;
and I am a child again
in a night that may be the last.