Praying into the equidistance.

Praying Into the Equidistance

   You must learn to say prayers
   that become time travelers,
   prayers that can trumpet past
   a guilty conscience, past our attics
   of guess and superstition.

   You must find a way to enter
   into the flash of nerve processes
   that blink like road signs in the mind
   and see the world from the core
   of what makes them tick.

   You must pray past the mantra
   and beads, past the guru, the priest,
   the sounds of little bells, the wonder
   of fire, the clean repetition of air
   rushing in and out of your lungs.

   You must find a way to turn the inner
   citadel of the soul into a thing
   of light, then follow it above, beyond
   and through the merchandise
   of matter, the clatter of regret,

   the distractions doubt brings on its
   frail but deadly wings. You must
   coax the ego and id to follow; lead
   them like lambs into the mystery,
   and let them graze until they're full.

Fredrick Zydek lives in Omaha, Nebraska His most recent books are Tacopachuk: The Buckle) Poems (Winthrop, 2004) and Dreaming on the Other Side of Time (Holmes House, 2004).