sometimes poetry
must say
what needs to be
said to
heal the heart
to heal the
voiceless
other––
the no-one who
trembles in the
lonely un
heard.
yet silence is
no enemy
of poems––
the cosmos is
shaped like the
ear of God
& every syllable
is the fragment
of a prayer.
somewhere
in the infinity
of suffering––
the cessation
of suffering.
how much,
even a galaxy,
wants to be
hugged.