I don’t know if anyone’s doing the poetry thing anymore, but I liked doing it. So.

“Prayer to little things,” by Ilpo Tilhonen

Holy Wholeness of the littlest things!
Thou the binary digit, manna and Lord God
of pencils
matches
and paper clips!
Grant me the patience
to write one word,
just one word,
and if it’s inadequate
grant me at least the cheek
and the poker face
to set my hair on fire
and let me rise up into a summer cloud
as a wisp of smoke.
Grant me the green wooden pencil
whose slim dark innards of stone
contain everything I write to my darling,
grant me that minuscule match
that once swayed in great winds
under the blue sky
and grant me a clip
to fix two ideas together,

Oh God who art infinite
and scattered
in the world’s coat pockets,
in the dimness of desk drawers,
coffers and pencil cases
and trembling fingers,
when the big battalions of large goods rumble towards you,
show me your concentrated
power, clout and fury

and the hope that our hands
will never be empty.

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