Come Quickly, Opens Poem by James McLain

Next to where the scar,
I am heavy when it comes.
Your center is my when restricted
orderly retreat.
Comes each new day
and too short begins the next.
This night yes, did Mori,
did it soft, then hard, without my praying.
You open clutched, tight shut, your lips to I,
whom have the glass heavenward when lifted.
One hand held up and faintly open,
which comes directly closed and sings your praise.


or


Then on my callaused worn out knees.
Sore my heavy night,
comes shadows growing light.
To start my next one day before
my heart you beat it stays.
This night held fast in prayer.
Whereas the golden faintly etched your cup.
I raised it heavenward
Lips come quickly open
singing happy naught but praises.