Oh, Godde,
whatever you are
and I don’t know;
my mum is dying.
Maturity disappeared
in one phone call
when she said,
I have something to tell you.
No!
I’m not ready.
Too many memories of being held
hurt soothed and pain kissed away.
Now, it’s my turn
to wrap her suffering
in the space of compassion
she prepared long ago.
The wheel of life turns
faster than I thought
a bumpier ride than I want.
Godde help me
and my wanting what was,
to grow into who I need to be.
Image: Jake Thacker on Unsplash
A lovely prayer. Very psalm-like.
Thanks John.
I love Psalms and the singing of them. It seems to me they are the cry of the human heart so yes, I guess my prayers tend to be that.
It’s a strange thing but I started writing prayers when I was about 12 years old, did it for years and then the process disappeared, then reappeared and went again, and now I find myself coming full circle and with quite a different theological stance but still wanting to write them.
writing prayers – a beautiful thing to want to do. Sande you so shiningly appreciate the deep things of life and others so shiningly recognise your gifts to us; its nice to be able to say this: a bit like writing a prayer actually ….
hi George
I think I’ve come to the view that prayers are the cry of the human heart. So, yes, thank you for your prayer from the heart.