Prayers

Love is a prayer.  Love prays to keep a loved one there.
Love prays to keep its happiness.
Love prays never to know, or know no more, the grief of loss and emptiness.
Nor bear the bitter cross of loneliness.
Love prays to believe that beauty and bliss
Are blessings it will never--or no longer--miss.
Love prays to be an eternal light in the deep darkness.
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The tears we weep are prayers.  Even tears of joy.
They pray that day and night will not take final flight.
They pray that time will not destroy
The root of life beyond the quenching of its thirst.
They pray that life in joy cannot forever be reversed.
Nor forever be accursed.
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Tears are always prayers. 
The tears of sadness and despair and crushing cares
Too often send out pitiful pleading prayer.
When the breathing of life's precious air
Becomes a painful, fearful, sorrowful sigh.
When tears of sadness fall, they float a prayer.
They pray that a loving, caring power is really there.
Hoping that even now some helping hand will repair
The damaged dreams and darkling days of pain and despair.
And that time's flow will at last show a truly loving cosmic care.
Tears of sadness make such deep prayers.
Every sorrowed tear we weep calls out a cry
For helping heaven to come by.
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Pain is a prayer.  Every sharp deep sting
Is a prayer, if it is anything.
Every dull deep ache
Prays to correct and heal some marred mistake.
Every fire or hot-stove burn
Prays for immediate soothing, and not to face a callous spurn.
Of every kind of prayer that suffering sends out, without a choice,
Pain is the prayer that pleads with the most powerless and pitiful voice.
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Grief is a prayer.  It prays to see someone again, who is no longer there.
Grief deeply grieves for the loss of a loved one's life, sorrows and joys.
Grief prays to hear again a forlornly flown and vanished voice,
To break through the quiet ashes of the urn or the silencing slab of ground,
To soften the hard heart of reality with that beloved voice and loving sound
Of articulated words of living speech--
From someone dear, someone well remembered, someone loved so much--
Someone so very loved, who now is gone--gone--beyond our willing reach.
Someone beyond our eyes and ears--beyond our grieving love's true touch.
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Life is a prayer.  Loving the drawing in of every breath.
Feeling that just breathing is absolutely wonderful;
Life--the spirit, breathing in the life-sustaining air.
Life is its own self-prayer.  Prayer, that somehow--despite all despair--
And all the often gross negations of so many graced blessings of life--
That for all the evils and ills--sorrows, losses, defects, pains--there will be repair.
Life is its own prayer: The heart's prayer that life will continue to love and share.
Breathing in the spirit-sustaining air.  Life is its own self-praying prayer.
Life prays that it will still be there-a glad good life--somehow--after death.
Like a shining sun of bright beauty that waits, just hidden behind a passing cloud.
Defying the scientifically most likely look; and furious fall of terrible fates.
Life is the prayer that sings its joyful, strong, joy-dreaming, hopeful song--
With living, loving, and life-longing spirit in sound--and wells up deep to God.
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Of all the prayers of now and ever--life that yearns to live forever--
The living self-prayer--calls out and cries out and sings out, in life-loving fever;
Floating on the flow of time's rapid, mysterious, magically moving river:
The most longing, loving prayer of all--a call both humble and proud.
My prayer is tall and deep and clear and loud.  My heart feels joyful gratefulnesss. 
I hold my hands up to heaven.  I thank God for the life and blessings I was given. 
Even if I live no more, I am grateful for the life I have lived.  My head is bowed.
I will live and love in joyful love of life, grateful to God, for as long as I am allowed.


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Written by Michael LP, aka MLP
aka PoetWithCancer, aka PWC, aka Mr. Poet
Written on Sunday, January 9, 2011  2:51 pm PST
Temperature: 55 degrees F.  Humidity: 37%  Forecast: overcast
Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael L.P.  All rights reserved