Supplicant skyward face,
palms folded, stretching for Grace.
Slumped shoulders, lips singing praise;
eyes beseeching through mist haze....
“Oh my dear, unhappy child!
No more troubles for you.” He smiled.
Thus did I discover prayers.
Perfecting it with the right bombardiers.
Beg, avow and kneel...trick’s to persevere!
Hounded, bound and blackmailed...He had to hear!
Yet,
One prayer-laden night dawned senses on me.
I ceased playing the devotee.
I knew what I wanted,
He knew what I needed.
Whining for candle-light illumine,
I almost lost His gift of deathless Sunshine!
No comments:
Post a Comment