Prayer
Pray, says the preacher
and closes his eyes.
Around me, lips move
as if God is deaf and lip reads.
Grandma's sharp elbow says,
Pray.
I shut my eyes.
Dear God, I begin
as if I'm writing a letter.
I break off.
It is all too silly.
God knows what I need.
Faith, definitely. And hope.
Love. I wonder about love.
Does love obey God?
Will it find me if I ask?
Too late.
Amen, says the preacher.
Amen, echoes Grandma.
Again the sharp elbow.
Amen, say I. But I'm wrong.
This time the elbow means,
"I made pot roast, hurry home."
I guess love found me.
Thank you, God, I say,
and hear a smiling, Amen.
Pray, says the preacher
and closes his eyes.
Around me, lips move
as if God is deaf and lip reads.
Grandma's sharp elbow says,
Pray.
I shut my eyes.
Dear God, I begin
as if I'm writing a letter.
I break off.
It is all too silly.
God knows what I need.
Faith, definitely. And hope.
Love. I wonder about love.
Does love obey God?
Will it find me if I ask?
Too late.
Amen, says the preacher.
Amen, echoes Grandma.
Again the sharp elbow.
Amen, say I. But I'm wrong.
This time the elbow means,
"I made pot roast, hurry home."
I guess love found me.
Thank you, God, I say,
and hear a smiling, Amen.