-- Prayer --

By John Herlihy

When all is lost, when we no longer know,

We turn to prayer, peace in the heart to sew.

To remember what is gone, miss what is lost,

To gather crumbs from life’s table at such cost,

We turn to prayer, feelings of peace to bestow.

Why should we deny what we feel to be there,

Why should we succumb to feelings of despair.

To hear the melody of a lute our hearts to uplift,

Silence listening whisperings of the wind to sift,

Prayer, at any moment, anywhere, everywhere.

Humans open themselves to the realm of prayer,

Lifting their feet one by one on a creaking stair.

The soul in the hands of the divine craftsman,

A Master who fashions us as His own yeoman,

The seeing, hearing, touching with these senses.

He is the sole vision with which we see,

The celestial perfume with which we smell.

He is the hearing with which we hear,

He is the experience with which we taste,

He works the hands with which we touch.

We walk, talk, work in prayer and praise,

Sleep the little death, awaken to new days.

Emptying oneself into a profound absence,

Filling oneself with the reality of presence,

At the meeting place of heaven and earth.

Sitting in silhouette under an overarching grace,

In repose, in contemplation, of the divine face.

The crescent moon as scimitar cutting thru night,

Arising from the depths with this sliver of light,

Beauty and truth intertwined as delicate lace.

Wherever we turn, we see that nature prays,

Filling our hearts with peace as light fills the days.

On wings, prayer rises aloft unto the roof beams,

 Smoke rises in the night, illuminated by moonbeams,

Words uttered to ourselves when no one else there.

A river runs thru us on its way to the divine sea,

Thru sorrows and joys, blessed in countless ways.

Scattered flower petals, the song of a bird overjoyed,

We gaze upon mountain peaks that touch the void,

Eternity offers a sense of timelessness we never forget.

God fashions the person, the person fashioned by prayer,

To remember, refocus, and recenter anytime, anywhere.

When Satan’s whispers, the good will in our mind he stole,

We remember prayer in recalling the power of our soul,

That vital piece of puzzle whose power makes us whole.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Saturday 9 September 2023