At the Altar

Oh Lord of Windows, 
Oh Window, 
Oh Mirror with Drawn Curtains,  

maybe if I keep tapping, 
keep drumming my fingers on your altar, 
you’ll wake up. Maybe 

this rhythm will crack the stone
like it’s glass.
Maybe this beat will break

open, and an aria will pour out
from a metronome that’s forgotten  
it's a metronome and remembered 

it’s actually the throat
of everything vibrating, 
voicing an endless vowel. 

maybe cracks will appear in the moon as well 
and we will finally see the lightbulb
inside the lampshade.