Plea

I have nothing to say to the dead

for they are evidence of my broken prayer.

God, I have nothing to say to these broken-winged birds

for they are evidence of the fear stitched 

into the fabric of my existence.

But Lord, I have come to the threshold of my doubt,

let me not be barren of your mercy. 

Let the dawn of my grief not break 

for I am a fragile vessel holding a breath.

If I am lucky to survive my morning, 

let the sun scorch away every hatred I hold in my heart 

for my neighbor. When the curtain of the night falls, 

may my couch not mock me of loneliness.

I have known pain, and a bit of betrayal. Yes. 

Caress this sinking heart with the finger of love. 

Lord, are you listening? Let me not tread

on the knife-edge of anger and burn this little joy 

I own. Let my ignorance grow a wild patience 

to know your will. Send me a sign.

Maybe a dove perching on the hill of my weariness. 

Speak a word, Lord, to the bones of my dead faith 

& let them breathe again, like Lazarus. Amen.

Sarah Adeyemo, SWAN IX, is a Nigerian poet, editor, writer, and spoken word artiste. The debut author of The Shape of Silence, a micro chapbook. She draws inspiration from solitude and experiences. She is a fellow of the SprinNG Writing Fellowship. Sarah has published/forthcoming work on Pepper Coast Magazine, The Weeds Review, Akpata Magazine, The Shallow Tales Review, The Muse Journal, The Weganda Review, Everscribe Magazine, Afrillhill Press, TV-63 Magazine, Poems for Persons Interest, Northern Writers Forum Journal, Eboquills, Rinna Lit. Anthologies, and elsewhere.