Prayer Tide
Prayer, a tide of washing's wane
confers rancor's disdain
that when a spirit fastens me
upon annoyance lame,
the bitter vetch is carried off
like dust per aft the rain,
and I am saved to fill the cup
of Holiness again.
But when my mind is so filled up
with worry and proclaim
I only hear the goading sup,
that lengthens with its gain
and so my spirit is vexed abrupt
and I react in vain,
to curse the vestige interrupt
that fills me with its pain.
To curse that cursed thought destruct
my goodness is its aim
Oh, Godly giving, pray construct
relief from mortal strain.
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