Posted by: Postordinandy | June 26, 2012


How easy it is to pray.

We open our minds, our hearts, our mouths.

We meditate on life, and meaning, and shopping lists.

We mean well,
Mixing platitudes with sincerity.

But we micro-manage the I AM,
Wrestle control from the All-in-all.

“Not your will but mine”.

For our will seems clear,
At this very second,
In this very crisis.

But it remains transient,
Never settling,
Full of caveats, hang-ons and “oh, and alsos”

Your will…

Now, that, we fear.
For your will engages infinity.
Long-term, big picture stuff,
Good, better, best,
A clarity only visible after all is done.

We long to embrace it,
We trust, yet can’t
Want, but won’t

Release us into unknowing
Forgive our petty desires
Humour our fantasies.

How you must want to laugh,
As we claw for the bright wrapping paper of your gifts,
Ignoring the box,
And the better within.

Instead of waiting
And rejoicing.


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