Last Wish

At times I wish I could pray
  All day.
Start before seven,
And finish after eleven.
  I can't of course.
  No one can.

At times I wish I could study the Holy Books
Without giving the clock a single look;
Or contemplate His mysterious ways,
Until I die--or the end of days.
  But I can't, of course.
  No one can.

How often do I reflect
On just the right phrase to inject
Into my supplication
For my people Israel, for my nation?
  Not often enough, I suspect.
  Not often enough.

How often do I give proper thanks
To Him to Whom all thanks are due?
In deepest awe and gratitude
For all the glorious things He doth do.
  Not often enough, I'm afraid.
  Not often enough.

Have I shown enough Love to the One High Above?
Have I walked in His ways throughout my livelong days?
Do I always tremble before Him,
Or do I frequently ignore Him?
  And must I end this rhyme
  With a plea for yet more time?
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace