Meet me

in the fading blur of last night’s dream,
the tiles’ seams beneath my feet,

the saucer’s crack, the hard dirt trail,
the lavender air, the stumbling prayer,

the shower’s steam, the empty page,
the scurry of words, the fire of noon,

the wooden knock of interruptions,
the droop of afternoon, the stab

of grief imbedded in a tune,
the string of syllables in flight,

the lost connection, the evening wine,
the sinking haze of the yet-undone—

O, Ghost of God, meet me, set ablaze
my common minutes, hours, and days.