If, as must be clear, I have forgotten how to pray,
................................................Oh Lord,
forgive me that these words, which here I say,
seem crude to you and sound so awkward
in their presentation of this late display.
An invocation: my entreaty for your word,
your act, your deed; some chance to stay
the paltry moment when the flesh, in discord
with the spirit’s longing now to set out on its way
- perhaps back home like some enchanted bird
no longer tied to nature’s willful disarray -
cries out for more: the sunrise of a bright new day,
cries out for more: the chance to be still heard,
cries out for more: the end, for now, deferred.
.
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