The prayers for a reprieve
bare the fruits
like an apple tree
on a bare rock would.
The only rest
under our skies
is the work you learn to love,
the only healing
comes from the sweet lymph
after tart blood,
the only salvation
from grinding the body
for what you deeply plead
with the non-negotiable
part of yourself.
Man returns to his God
in the darkest of the days.
Kao jabuka na steni
plodove rađaju
molitve za predah.
Jedini je odmor
pod našim nebom
rad koji umeš da voliš,
jedino isceljenje
slatka limfa
posle opore krvi,
jedini spas
telo kruniti
za ono za šta istinski zahtevaš
onim delom sebe
koji je bez kompromisa.
Čovek se u najmračnije dane
svome Bogu vraća.