The Well
Seth Jani
I don’t know how to pray, or to whom,
but every evening I move a mammoth stone
and search the dark bottom
for any drop of music, any ragged praise.
In my smallness, there must be a hidden door
through which the sky throws its blessings,
because over and over it fills the empty pool
and I do not fear the constant dimming
or that the water will run dry.
Seth Jani
I don’t know how to pray, or to whom,
but every evening I move a mammoth stone
and search the dark bottom
for any drop of music, any ragged praise.
In my smallness, there must be a hidden door
through which the sky throws its blessings,
because over and over it fills the empty pool
and I do not fear the constant dimming
or that the water will run dry.