To All the Lights

by Darryl Price

I have nothing in me but a raw loneliness

right now. It's as if someone whirl-winded me out

of the sky into the middle of the ocean


in the middle of the red faced night. My

fate seems immobile, sealed, doomed to a rocking nothingness,

like an endless tossing and turning in a fold


of fretting, splashing sheets. There is no sleep, just

minor escapes into a fantasy of heart-chilling sleepiness. Dear

God, if there are any angels left, I  sure could


use some company about now.  Please don't let me

drown in my own numbness of tears. Head me

to all the lights where some capacity to love


still exists, where I can come ashore at last,

and begin to be the beautifully controlled man that

I am. Please don't let me falter any more.


I want to come home before I am useless.

I want to be lost forever in the poetic,

private family of a Sunday morning. I miss being


loved for being me. Let me have a head

that believes in this, a heart that proves its

starting position daily, and a spirit that always welcomes


what's inside every face. Open my arms. Open my

eyes. Keep my mind awake. Let me relax. That's

all I'm asking. The bricks are stacking quite high!