Proud Against A Backdrop

You are a honey stain,
thumb crushed into the flat of the sky
the grooves and impress of an absence
filled to its brim with the light of all flowers.
a whole world, the stable staying ground of orientation
hands clasping tree trunks, I am a motionless plea
unto a feather light signal beacon that drifts
aloft the baying of wolves,
dismiss me for wilder voices
I have found the safest way to pray is like a poppy.