Bohren & Der Club Of GorePiano Nights (Full Album, 2014)

Lord, let my ears go secret agent, each 
a microphone so hot it picks up things 
silent, reverbing even the hum of stone 
close to its eager, silver grill. Let my ears forget 
years trained to human chatter 
wired into every room, even those empty 
except of me, each broadcast and jingle 
tricking me into being less 
lonely than I am. Let my ears forget 
the clack and rumble, our tambourining and fireworking 
distractions, our roar of applause. Let my hands quit 
their clapping and rest in a new kind of prayer, one 
that doesn’t ask but listens, palms up in my lap. 
Like an owl, let me triangulate icy shuffling under snow as 
vole, let me not just name the name 
when I spot a soundtrack of birdsong 
but understand the notes through each syrinx 
as a singular missive—begging, flirting, fussing, each 
companion call and alarm as sharp with desire and fear 
as my own. Prick my ears, Lord. Make them hungry 
satellites, have your way with their tiny bones, 
teach the drum within that dark to drum 
again. Because within the hammering of woodpecker 
is a long tongue unwinding like a tape measure from inside 
his pileated head, darting dinner from the pine’s soft bark. 
And somewhere I know is a spider who births 
a filament of silk and flies it to the next branch; somewhere, 
a fiddlehead unstrings its violin into the miracle of 
fern. And somewhere, a mink not made into a coat 
cracks open a mussel’s shell, and with her mouth full 
of that gray meat, yawns. Those are your sounds, are they not? 
Do not deny it, Lord, do not deny 
me. I do not know those songs. Nor do I know the hush 
a dandelion’s face makes when it closes, surrenders, then goes 
to seed. No, I only know the sound my own breath makes 
as I wish and blow that perfect globe away; 
I only know the small, satisfactory 
popping of roots when I call it weed and yank it 
from the yard. There is a language of all 
you’ve created. Hear me, please. I just want to be 
still enough to hear. Right here, Lord: 
I want to be. 

Prayer to be Still and Know by Nickole Brown

Happy Sunday.

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