For One Who Prays for Me

I do not wish to hurt her, who loves me

and who asks for me only every blossom and more,

but in fact, when I say God I mean the wind

and the clouds that are its angels;

I mean the sea and its enormous restraint,

all its fish and krill just the luster of a heavenly gown.

And while it is true there are days when I think

something more must be in the wind than air, still I believe

the afterlife is dirt, but sweet, and heaven’s coming back

in the lewd, bewhiskered tongue of an iris.