2 of 30. Prayer Beads

I’m wondering when I got so religious

looking through trays of crystal

and bone beads

on 38th street,

Forming a clunky string

of prayer requests



for the God who tore through me

with beauty and light.

I am on my knees begging

these days,

for YHWH



and stillness.

Davinci’s man a metal

charm to represent

humanity, depravity, aching,

and hope.

A swirl of blue, green, brown

blown glass

for Haiti’s,

exquisite beauty.

Each bead, or charm

a memory, a smooth

eternity of form

that I can recount

on the 1 train,

or at the kitchen table

while I eat my oatmeal.

The conversation gets better

every day.

There is more to talk about,

the beads have faces and flesh,

the memories smell like wet dirt,

smell like nag champa.

The beads hum in my hand,

a choir of lazy angels

I fall asleep to each night.


About amyleighcutler

Writer, dancer, vagabond extraordinaire
This entry was posted in 30 in 30, Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to 2 of 30. Prayer Beads

  1. Jacob Victorine says:

    Perfect beginning. I’d challenge to to come up with a stronger metaphor than “tsunami of hunger” or to take out “of hunger.” I don’t think you need “YHWH.” The flow of “these days, / for visions, / miracles,” etc. would be great. Lovely last image.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s