Prayer Untitled


35

Prayer is the last response
Of presence when life is denied
So to remain quiet

Is sometimes next to God’s ear
Watching and listening
The last apparatus

Of apparent prosperity
For to own is not permanent
Anything can be taken away

A spirit-diamond trance
Can problem solve
The symmetry of misfortune

Prayer is the last response
Of an unconditional force of happiness
Too infinite is consequence

For us to seize destiny by the throat
Prayer is the easiest sport
When our slow capacities deploy

A crude response to vivid nature
So to act is not always wise
Then do we notice things overlooked

Our mind italicized by light
That darkness be prerequisite
To spirit’s final room

As narrow time’s jostle between
What we once called life & death
Bent to water, till we died

Prayer is the last response
When belief no longer regulates
The perception of our undue significance.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Skyfall-403075862

Filling in the Blanks


Heaven, you see, is blank like an angel
Such a vast blank of silence
Filled to the brim with wonder
That it requires no labels
It’s like the purity of death

The trance that is registered
Before breath, in the genealogy
Of all cosmic cells, the flavour

Of a spring afternoon that doesn’t
Know kinsmen, but feels
How everything is related
In some indescribable unity
Heaven, you see, has no father or husband

Requires no sense of propriety
No status symbols, no possession
Heaven, you see, allows us to simply be.

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