Count on the faith that links us
as we pray, about odd things
in each other’s lives, nothing ruinous
—a lost ring, an aching tooth. Even
a request that we forget after
a casual pledge: I’ll be sure to pray for you,
words spoken as we chat at the store
—they form a filament of gold, forged
in heaven, that loops around us.
Even careless phrases spoken through
air hold firm, are heard, and may
be answered. A cough that won’t
give up, a missing check, a migraine
that suspends us, waiting, held
in the loop of prayer.