I Am the Prayer
I am the prayer
On the altar begging fire
To make flesh spirit
Not on my knees, but
At this place that's called prayer
I wait for footsteps
To voice my journey
Where there's no sign nor border
Of separation
Not with wrenched phrases
The agony foolish, waits
Suddenly the still
Of will and motion
The surrender of feelings
To naked frailty
The wise longing pause
In vulnerability
Then through death to live
I am the prayer
That I bring unexpectant
Of all, but to wait.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment