essay: "prayer"

every day in the past a blessing wrested for me from time by some force that let me have it.
i am wary and that may make me stupid but always i am grateful, force that gave to me this time
in which i can be loved, and learn how to care.

i am afraid of the future to a considerable degree--for one thing, i am scared of being kicked out of time.

but there's something here:
if i cannot give thanks
for what will be
(the things in which
i have no faith),
i at least can thank god
for what has gone before--
that pizza restaurant,
as an example,
when we still lived in berkeley,
where we went with young
when she was visiting from japan,
and she told me the plot of
field of dreams.
the bathroom was small there.
or the chinese restaurant
off of shattuck
where she told me about pet semetary.
or in college,
its several abysses--
throwing roses
purchased on the corner
at vanesa's house
then riding away
on my bike
because i was drunk
and secretly in love.
or walking back from trini's
knowing
that one thing
at least
that i'd given away
could never be
returned,
and the pride in me
that it had been given
entirely
free, not coaxed out
by words of love or passion,
not the result
of a bargain.

it is simple if not easy to thank you for these things god.
thank you also for this fear of tomorrow, because, like everything else,
it is part of my time.