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Prose Poetry Prayer Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Prayer

These Prose Poetry Prayer poems are examples of Prose Poetry poems about Prayer. These are the best examples of Prose Poetry Prayer poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Prose Poetry |

Why must I Cry

   I come to the garden along, while the dew is still fresh
on the meadows. Early in the morning do the bird's sing
praises of roses and peddles.  I cry, because there is no
refuge finally from the pain.  
    Yet long ago, a child was born, to become king, and yes
there is hope, just for believing in his name. Where is this King!
when I'm hurting and alone? He's just a prayer away, don't give
up, for he's Alpha and Omega, which means, just be strong!.
So they sent me to a place, to turn my life around. I cry, be-
cause, I am somebody no longer am I bound.
     Now I know that Jesus is my refuge and no more drugs is
there for I. Thank you Lord, for the method, that's "Why Must
I Cry".

Copyright © John Streeter | Year Posted 2009

Details | Prose Poetry |

I Knew That You Were Waitting

I knew that you were waiting                                                                                                        Somewhere between the last war                                                                                               And the next kiss                                                                                                                               And that you where dreaming of sweet angels and vampires                                                         Because they have always known                                                                                                     In spite of John Cameron Swayze and timex                                                                                        Or the mechanical of Mickey Mouse                                                                                                           That the nights are always longer                                                                                                    I knew that you were waiting                                                                                                                  For the summer to turn to silk again                                                                                              And carry you away before the next big flood arrived                                                                        Before the thunder and after the lightning                                                                                             Before the smoke and after the fire                                                                                                Before the dance and after the song                                                                                                Before the hope and after the the prayer                                                                                       I knew that you where waiting                                                                                                          Like an eagle's wing and a child's song                                                                                               I was waiting too

Copyright © Michael Ainsley | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |

7 Gifts of the Holy Spirit Prayer

Lord God,
Stretch our mind/s with deep understanding of Wisdom
To obtain positive understanding with every complications
Counsel us with guidelines in our work

Give us Fortitude, strength, Patience and Tolerance to finish in peace successfully
Deliver knowledge in our mind/s
For us to receive Piety, goodness and devoutness to get satisfaction
With Holy Fear of the Lord-God, I/we ask in the name of Father Christ Jesus to be with us now and forever.


People can change the “our” to “their”, “him” or “his” when praying for others.

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

Urban Forest

  All I hear are sirens echoing off tall buildings; a drunk man ranting, a prostitute looking for her next trick, a drug addict looking for his next fix. Young teenage kids who seem to have just learned the art of curse. A young couple fist fighting in the streets---more sirens.  A homeless man pan-handling, picking up cigarette butts and smoking a hole into his neck, gum pushed deeper into concrete marked blacker with every step. All I hear are sirens and I say a little prayer for the person in the back. Trains and boats chiming in the distance, a stray cat limping into an unknown existence...must be nice to have nine lives! Yet, all I hear are sirens in this concrete urban forest, where trees are replaced with buildings and cars are the only waves I hear, street lights in place of the stars, sirens in place of the wind. 

   I close my paper eyelids tight, i can hear in this concrete urban forest of man-nature, for a glimpse, a stolen second in time, the sound of Mother Nature...she still sings and she's crying. She's crying for the people in the back of all those sirens. She cries for her bush the drunk man urinated on; the puddle of blood collecting on her blades of grass that a young man drew from his womans lips. She cries for her branch the teenage kids snapped for fun. She's crying - Mother Nature - is crying, because man - nature takes her place. In this concrete urban forest...all I hear are sirens and I close my paper eyes; i try to reach out and steal the tear off of - Mother Nature's - face. All I hear are sirens and im saddened, man-nature takes her place.

Copyright © amy epiphany tunks | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

All About A Red Saturday

At last time has brought me to this day yet again on another Saturday night things forever will end sweet flowers with petals in need For me it is nothing more than a day my life will begin the pain I feel will forever remain yet to others it is merely a Saturday Here I stand at the path of yesterday and today for tomorrow there will be nothing more to say in so many demanding ways I thank God it is Saturday The last day in a week seen as play but as for me it is such a lonesome day tomorrow is day number one the day life begins has yet begun Peace floods me in my solace this day knowing it is final, done, ended, this 5th day in May the day I was finally told to give up and walk away I am no longer trapped by my fears or waiting for he to cause me pain I am the one who won on this Saturday At last I do not care to be played or hurt to the extreme, a lovers old tired game I want to thank you for moving on to another's sweet way This will forever be known as Red's blessed Saturday and with this release back into the wild game I find my heart pure for those locked deeply away thank you for letting me be and not trying to keep hurting me SATURDAY is officially my lucky day! enjoy the date that you made, love her deeply, cherish her face for I will forever remain ever-so grateful for this Saturday To you both I thank you, and send a prayer of passionate love your way! At last I can be happy all because of one Saturday in May! To me a new anniversary I have now made, with God's amazing grace.

Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

I Shall Wait On You

As my day slowly comes to an end
When it seems my strength is gone
As the hours seem to pass by slowly
When all I try just seems so wrong

Within my heart I seek inspiring words
A psalm that will lift my spirit high
For so often when I feel this tired
Even on my bed I have no desire to lie

I reach within my soul for divine energy
I seek with my inner voice to deeply pray
Finding I have such a great need of You
For Your soothing spirit to come my way

And as I pray silently and so sweetly
While I also gently embrace Your name
I find I shall always wait on You Lord
Knowing my happiness I will again regain

For You are the great power which saves me
The blessed assurance my heart only knows
And happily Lord I will always wait on You
Because with all my heart I love You so.

Copyright © Wendell Brown | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |


Strong woman
That woman 
Who tears behind the mirror? 
Made me who I am 
My hardened heart she took
Tenderized it with love
Took my salty tears 
Turned into joyful tears

That woman 
Who sighs behind the mirror 
Sighs in memory
Memories and feelings
Hardships she went through 
To feed my whole stomach

That woman
The woman pulling back her mucors
Does so in fear
Fear that ill not be what she hoped
That teared woman 
Crys in fast and prayer 
Crys for my dark self 
Cries for my future 

That woman crying 
Tears down her body fluids
Hopefully that her anger and disappointments
May atleast flow out with them
Her body almost running dry by now
That woman calls upon God
GOD atleast make him better
That woman cries for me 
That woman cries for her lineage
That woman cries night and day

How I came to be 
To be what I am 
I don’t know how
A slave of the world
A slave with one work song 
A song entitled failure 
The first stanza of calamity
The last stanza dead man where I am heading

Looking at her cry 
Twists my brains 
Is this what I am?
Is this my purpose to the world? 
Is this the man the world wants? 
Is this what God spent time Molding 
Is this what the bible describes? 
Just for her 
Just for her I take my life back 
Just for her God I stand strong 
Just for her I say no
NO no no this is not me 

Come mummy take this handkerchief 
I don’t wannna see those tears again
I love you mummy

Copyright © FRANCIS NZIOKI | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

Love Prayer

Show me intimately passionate ways
to incarnate political and economic cooperative co-investment
potentiality, regenerative integrity,
show me our climatic ecological outcomes
uniting polycultural polypathic polymorphic paradigms
of Time’s evolving light-love TransPresent
absorbing absent dualdark anger-AnthroFear 
of terror’s eco-gravitating passage
through eternal ecoconscious light
of diastolic freedom-cooperative
as yang-yin co-arising 
Endo/EctoSymbiotic Bliss.

Ectosymbiotic positive/negative-immune relations
spark endosymbiotic revolutions
of warm light
and cold double-bound dark thoughts,
reiteratively trapped in eisegetically echoing absent silent stasis
of timeless bicameral mindbody exegetical ecosystems
light and dark nutrient-rich appositional life 
on and within Earth’s Exterior Landscape,
flowing absorbing time consumption and production
of regenerative flowers and seeds
for me to replant and rediscover,
remember my 
EarthTribe Elders.

As Quakers follow radiant light,
Laotse and UUA  add,
through our universally co-arising dualdark unitarian equivalence,
DNA as YangYin embryonic birth through regenerate rebirth
of eco-cooperative Zen (0)-investment
and further enlightenment reiterative future 
LightTimes of ReGenesis.

Who am I?
in Ego’s deductive dark winter of decomposing fallen seeds
and leaves and root systems,
regenerative healthy compost
composing Prime Ecological Generosity of Relationship
Father Sun and Mother Earth

Who am I?
springing healthy consumer of light’s optimal nutrition
and dark’s wet nights of nourishment
for diastolic/systolic beating/surfing mindbody dreams

Who are we?
in diastatic summer’s full regeneration
of bright and fertile light,
heating absorbing flows 
of water’s eco-messianic baptismal promise,
waking to rainbows of morning manna dew of paradise

Who are we?
cooperatively producing fallen winnowed harvests,
branching flowing flying scattered embryonic seeds
of time’s nutritious integrity,
advent of 4 Prime Spiral Seasons
of light’s enlightening ecobalancing growth,
dualdark root thermodynamic heart-flow systems
fueling Earth’s hydropowered rivers
of timedrenched polycultural becoming 
light-tempered syntax,
speaking through embryonic womb-dialectic 
rich nutritiously healthy ways,
AnthroVitality nesting within 
EarthTribe’s Solidarity Network

Who are we?
Earth-time’s rich-languaged polypathic becoming,
light of faith in God as NOW and US in Earth’s co-arising love,
permacultural revolutionary holonic designs
enfolding evolution’s nutrient language-light 
of Primal EcoSystemic Relationship,
YangLeftWest escorting YinRightEast.

May we continue
learning cooperative endosymbiotic nature is our love-work, 
CoOperative Vocation,
our mission and goal,
by relearning competitive ectosymbiotic nature of being,
flowing our WinLose bicameral ecoconscious BiCameral Games
to decompose cooperative LeftRight co-relations toward 
WinWin ReGenerativity.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

Take Off the Mask and Be Yourself

Take off the mask and be yourself:
Be honest; be true and strong.
Stop trying so hard to fit in a crowd where you really don't belong.

Don't side-step your calling
To HIM, you should only remain true
Don't push HIM aside because you need HIM as Guide in all that you think, say 
and do.

He is the only One who does possess the Power to the success you are looking 

So take off the mask; simply be yourself; accept His plans for you.
Rekindle His Love through repentance, prayer and faith within your heart-
And true success will scoop you up and elevate you high;
And wealth will be yours unendlessly with love; with  peace you can not deny.

Copyright © Martha Malloy | Year Posted 2008

Details | Prose Poetry |

A Gift Of Heavenly Love

My heart awakens each day with a psalm,
Which I will joyfully recite for my King.
A psalm of pure love, a psalm of praise,
Because the Lord means everything to me.

And on my knees I happily speak the words,
Bowing down before his heavenly throne.
Lovingly he accepts what is spoken by lips,
For he knows their melodies are never done.

He saved me from sin’s deep darkened pit,
And from sinking into its tormented hell.
He gave his life as a ransom for me,
And now my heart each day must tell.

Of his goodness, his love, and tender mercies,
How his loving grace has set me forever free.
For he saved a lowly sinner from certain death,
Giving me his blessing of life I surely need.

And that is why my heart will tell the world
About the precious salvation he alone brings
For he is more valuable than even my own life
Because he means more than this world to me.

Copyright © Wendell Brown | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

So Complete

I will enter into the house of my Lord
With a joyful heart praising his name
I will seek out his love, and great mercy
Knowing I will never again be the same

For each new day you have called out to me 
Always taking me by your unseen spirits hand
Directing my heart in the way I should  go
To share the tender grace of the great “I Am”.

For many blessings are mine to own this day
Where with a spiritual eye I may now see
The wealth which most  only dream about
But cannot have for they fail to believe

For like great King David long before me
Deep in my heart you daily place the songs
Which every morning now greets my heart
Empowering my hungry spirit all day long

Bringing to me your lasting embrace each day
Reminding me with you I will never be alone
For you allowed me to enter into your grace
Which in life shall always be my secured home

So with my prayers and many supplications
Each day I will bow down at your lovely feet
Knowing deep in my heart you are the only One
Who will always make my life so very complete.

Copyright © Wendell Brown | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

My God Placed You God In Front Of Me

I had no choice that day but to love you
My heart could do nothing else but care
So perpetually my mind began to spin 
When you sat down by my side so near

I don’t think I would have chosen you
If that moment in time was left up to me
But your Father had set in motion a plan
Where your grace would lovingly set me free

My heart was swept away so effortlessly
When you reached out taking me by my hand
I never realized my life could be this happy
Loving you as no other human ever can

And it was the most magnificent of blessings
The greatest gift my eyes could ever receive
That moment in time when I became so alive
When my God, placed You God, in front of me.

Copyright © Wendell Brown | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |


A saved soul that prays should never fear
that the God of Heaven will not hear.
Our prayers no one else can touch. 
Just the One from the Cross that gave so much.

We do not even have to wait
to get prayer through the pearly gate.
God has heard our prayer while it was in our heart.
Jesus nail scarred hands held it from the start.

For the victory of prayer has already been won.
They are heard through Jesus, the Fathers Son.
Greater is He that is in us. His Power He manifests.
We give to Him our prayers and He does the rest..

By God's Grace and Mercy His ear is waiting still-
always for His children to pray for His perfect will. 
The greatest prayer that causes angels to rejoice
is a sinner repenting, receiving Christ by choice. 

Not My Will, BUT Thine Be Done....

Copyright © Edith D Eutsler | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Patient Prayer for Clemency The Etherial Dance of Grace

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98LcbCkhqJs ~ (~) ~ ......... ........ ....... ............... ............... ............... ....... ....... ....... ....... ....... ....... ....... ........ ........... ............... ................... ..................... ""Patience... !" - trembling-wanton - weary-the open-hand." "BOUND... !" - lowly-lands, rise-quietly - kiss; The-Son!"" ""Benignity-Simple, Holy; Smitten- promenades... dandling along with- them as would-He With-Child - yes; exulted; undefiled - "Love-gracious--always; knows-faith; surrendered... perceives; perseveres... remains - Joy-His; Worthy; though-rejected; defiled-dejected-still... moreover; abandoned-alone by-some - dances throughout; All; Eternity... !"" ............... .......... ............... ""Bound, by indifference-denial- shame, bitterness; yes-silence; "UNITY."" "LOVE strait-away-soaring I-know-lye-beyond - beholden--Joy; Grace, Peace... compassion-kinder - Faith-even-reliant - made-relevant; through-hope, Forgiveness this-Truth - Virtuous... in its-Mercy... !" ""Dusty-old-prison captor-defiant-unwilling-will-not; no-never let-go - abiding... We-apart - alone... !" "Cored 'round Our neck choking--Us - eager-feet- once trudging-the-road; sadly-now - "Trammeled--moreover--yes-still bereaved... We struggle... !"" ""Yes all-We-can ask-for-now - "God!" - I feel... can-see now-Us-All... humbly... if-only-yes... if-only - seeking; patient-in-prayer- for-deliverance - "His..." "Clemency...?"" ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ .......................... ....................... .................... .................. ............... ............ .......... ....... ..... ... .. . ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ (~) ~ "Words-form-two-teardrops-falling-and-rising-to-greet-one-another-through-the-acceptance-of God's-Grace-together - spinning-as-a-top-through-The-Greater-Example of-His-Love- Mercy/Forgiveness, His-Son-Jesus - relishing-or-dancing-if-you-will-with-Him-in-the Spirit/Sacrifice/Gift-of-His-Life-of-Surrender/Rise-Through-Him - abiding-as-one-in-reverence- of-this - for-All-Eternity." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vIMOdVXAPJ0 ""King Davids secret was his thirst for God's abiding mercy in his life, and to be taught this and move to show it in all he said and did." "He knew that mercy knows its own desire, is forever kin to it."" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lp6yT2rz0iA&feature=related

Copyright © James Long | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |

A Prayer

Lord, help me to understand you more and more.
Help me to appreciate the gifts of life as I explore.
So many times I've put doing my will about yours.
Please turn my heart towards your forever love.

Lord, help me to live the way you ask me to love.
And to love the way you ask me to live.
Dear God, I pray to you on my bended knees.

Hear my cry.
My urgent need for you.
Let me see you in all things.
Give me life anew.

Teach me to listen.
Teach me to be kind.
Lord, strengthen me that I might find.
The road that leads me closer to you everyday.
Please Lord, 
I beg you
Show me the way!

----By Janille James----

Copyright © Janille James | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |


Whenever rain falls,
It is an answered prayer for the fruitfulness of the earth
The earth buried seeds spring up in freedom
To give expression to their potential
It is the glory of the trees in the forest
That after their death, they live on
It is joy of animals in the jungle
For they have more and fresh food to eat
Only the earth prayed for rain
The seeds buried down in the earth,
The trees of the forest, the animals in the jungle
And more benefited from the earth’s prayer
A word of prayer in faith according to His will from you
Could affect millions just at that point you are standing

(c) 2007

Copyright © Joshua Akinwande | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |


"Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you" Jeremiah 1:5

Why do we kill,
God's precious ones?
The Lord made it clear,
They are worth more than the sun.

Abortionists do shout,
They scream and dance.
But the holy unborn,
Never had a chance.

God never gave our leaders,
The right to kill His Own.
This is the biggest sin on earth,
The worst we've ever known.

Never had a birthday,
No first day of school.
No childhood friends,
How could we be so cruel?

We cannot stand by,
God's unborn cannot cry.
We must get involved,
Not fold our hands and sigh.

Our churches let this happen,
What a terrible sin.
Say "there's nothing we can do",
They let the evil win.

Pastors should you not be preaching,
Against this evil act?
Can't do it, we are told,
Bishop says do not react.

Life, liberty and the pursuit,
The Declaration writes.
Except for those we kill,
They have no civil rights.


Copyright © Raymond Morgan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Love I Seek To Employ

I pledge to you my beloved
That I shall walk your path
I will emulate your life ways
As long as my life does last

I will sing an amazing love song
Which many with ears will hear
For I treasure the many moments
When I find your presence near

I breathe daily your compassion
As I always embrace your love
Which nourishes all living things
Who praise you with their hugs

Once one finds himself being blessed
With the tenderness of your embrace
Who would Think of ever denying
Your loves fullness and pure grace

Each morning my praise comes to you
While filling me with your lasting joy
For only in you lies the true treasure
Which daily my heart seeks to employ

You bring to me all my nourishment
The priceless spiritual bread I need
Humbling me with your kindness which
My heart and spirit you choose to feed.

Copyright © Wendell Brown | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |


Pharisee went into the Temple to pray
Sure of his goodness and love for God
He prayed confidently about his deeds
Fasting, tithing, praying, He did faithfully
This man was glad when the sinner came
Into the Temple with eyes downcast.
For it gave a perfect contrast to himself.
So he thanked God he wasn't like this sinner.
Sinner was bowed so very low before God.
"God have mercy on me a sinner." he whispered.
No list of good uttered, as he could see none.
Jesus said Sinner not Pharisee was justified.
Simon the Pharisee invited Jesus over to eat.
Simon didn't have servants wash Jesus feet
He didn't kiss Jesus or draw near for fear,
Fear of what others Pharisees would think.
In came a sinful woman with unkempt hair.
She wept at Jesus feet without looking up.
Carefully she wiped these feet with her hair.
Simon was now sure Jesus was no prophet
A prophet could surely tell she was a sinner.
How could he let her touch him that way?
Reading Simon's thoughts Jesus taught.
Using this contrast in real life as a lesson.
He asked Simon if there were two debts
One greater, one lesser and both forgiven.
Who would feel greater love and gratitude?
Simon replied, "The one whose debt was greater"
"Correct" said the One who would pay all debts.
Those who know their debt to God is great.
Are filled with greater love toward the Savior.
Simon showed he had little need for the Christ.
But to the woman. Jesus said, "You sins are forgiven."
"Go and sin no more." She stood free and esteemed
Precious are those who come humbly to the Lord
He will forgive and welcome them to His Family forever.
Humility. Pride. Contrast. Mixed in all of us.
People who come to God feeling worthless, Christ lifts up.
People striding in proudly, Jesus humbles to allow entry.
For the Lord's Kingdom's door is incredibly low.
So low that we enter only through true confession
From the heart to Jesus as Savior who humbled Himself
Coming down from glory to earth's mess to make a Way.
By humbling Himself on a Cross – Universe's God tortured.
Jesus contrast makes ours seem small – so why wait?
May we take the humble road to Life, risen Christ made.
Joining God's family of forgiven, freed, joyful sinners.
New life's contrast with old will grow as we follow Him.
By a thankful sinner now saint by Jesus' grace

Copyright © Scott Bronner | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |


Lord, make my eyes wide and bright,
That I may see much;
For the eyes are the windows of the soul.
Let mine shine with the light of Your love.

Give me big ears, Lord,
That I may hear much;
For the ears bring the blessing of sound.
Let mine be closed to curses and unkind words.

Make my mouth small, Lord,
That I may speak little;
For in the multitude of words,
Can be found confusion and much strife;

And make my heart large, soft and expandable,
That there may be room inside for more than self.
Let it not be hard and unyielding to the needs of others;
For all things need love and understanding.

Let these things be found in me, Lord,
That I may be pleasing in Your sight,
And my words music in Your ears,
That I may avoid Your chastisement.


            James 1:19-20

Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |


Oh Lord, God of Israel,
Thou art also my God.
Thou hast created the heavens and the earth,
And all things therein.
There is nothing in Heaven or above or below,
That can compare with Thee.
Thou hast been my companion, when I had no companion.
Thou hast been my protector, when I was beset by my enemies.
Thou hast given me sustenance, when I was in need.
Thou hast healed all my ills and sufferings,
Forgiven me my transgressions,
And called me, Friend.
Thou hast paid the price that bought me out of slavery,
And certain death, and called me Thy Child.
Truly, Thou art the need that all hearts cry out for.
I love Thee, but most important, Thou hast loved me,
Beyond all measure, when no one loved me.
Keep me, My Lord, forever unto Thyself,
And make me pleasing in Thine eyes.

                                  Luke 7:41-43

I know I owe Him lots, how about you.

Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |

Let It Rain

Let It Rain

On mountaintops and hillsides
In villages and valley floors
Let it rain

Fall on us through the whispers of the wind
Fill our creeks and ditches up to our chins
Let it rain

Fill our dams, our rivers, and our reservoirs
Grant to us the musical raindrops for hours
Let it rain

On roof tops of tin, asphalt, and tar
May your wet drops be heard from afar
Let it rain

Our summer lawns are no longer green
Roses are struggling like I’ve never seen
Let it rain

The fall trees are late and longing for brown
The birds and the bees stare at me with a frown
Let it rain

The summers have been long, dry, and hot
Some farmers quit, because their crops were shot
Let it rain

The drought has lasted for at least four years
Many have experienced the pain along with the tears
Let it rain

O Lord, many things have changed and will never be the same
O Lord, only you can make it rain, as we pray in your name
O Lord, wet our appetite for you, and take away our fright
O Lord, we plea, let it rain.
12222015(PS contest, about “Rain”)

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |


My Lord, you cast a loving glance my way
This morning while causing a smile to stay
And I found myself no longer lost in life
As your spirit lead me on a new path today

My life I knew would never be the same
Nor quite as confusing as it was before
When my life was affected by selfishness
Led astray by the sin sitting at my door

It seemed I was contented to be that way
As what seemed real success came easily
But my eyes were too blind to understand
How fleeting this worlds success can be

I thought I had everything I would need
Yet it was only a dream that would not last
All the material things I thought valuable
Would soon disappear from within my grasp

My Lord one special night you spoke to me
And I found my life would never be the same
Because I received a priceless gift of grace
That upon entering me made lasting change

I found taking the first step not to be easy
For I wanted to know In my heart I was sure
I would never seek to run from your calling
Or the gift found entering your open door

When I humbly bowed my head before you
Alone laying prostrate before your feet
I felt your energizing spiritual power
As your embracing love made me complete

I felt my selfishness as it was taken away
That worldly part who would always betray
And I found a new hope begin to blossom
As faith in my heart found a place to stay

My life now would no longer move in circles
Letting the lust for worldly wares to stay
For the moment I accepted your graceful offer
I knew to emulate your life was the only way

A genuine peace I found illuminates my soul
With a soothing happiness which lives within
Because I found a perfect treasure in you Lord
The moment your grace made new change begin.

Copyright © Wendell Brown | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

The Spirit of Christmas

John and Bath, short for Bathsheba Adams, were quite a pair.  Nothing ever got them down, except maybe an occasional cold.  Even then she would take hers out into the cold winter day of the back parking lot of the slum tenement building.  Where, there, she would nudge three of the fifteen cats trying to climb her double tattered blue jeans, out of the way, in order to stand and offer her cold up to God, seeing that it was all she had to offer Him and really she would be grateful, as well as giving up her only possession.   She often asked God why He didn’t seem inclined to come and keep them company, because she believed in Him heart, body and soul and talked to him constantly because John just got tired of listening.  She and John loved each other and no other.  She hadn’t worked steadily in Lord knows when.  John on the other hand got hurt on the job just before he was vested in company rights and the pitiful settlement he received was long gone.  He was left as barely good company for Bath, telling her over and over to just wait ‘til “he gets back on his feet” literally.  But that is not an option any longer, so Bath feels the need to keep him company. They really only had what you might call one vice.  That being because you might say they were wasting good money for no good reason.  They religiously bought two, one dollar lottery tickets every day that passed.  Well, there it was, the day before Christmas and Bath didn’t have money but for one ticket.  Well, she hotfooted down through Chinatown because there were still barbers there who would buy hair and she wanted to give John a special lottery ticket for Christmas.  The deal done she was cold as the mischief and begging God not to let her sinus get worse as she headed through the light rain for those lottery tickets.  John, meanwhile was hobbling down to get his ticket.  She always insisted that he walk to the corner himself so if he won he would feel like he had bought the ticket.  The rascal stopped and sold his crutch.  Can you belive, for $1 he sold his crutch.  Well, to cut to the chase, some friends carried him home after he bought the ticket.  Beth came in and after a bowl of soup, they had a prayer and wished each other merry Christmas and exchanged the two tickets which were the gifts.  Well, my story ends here.  I'm not going to tell you one or both won the lottery.  But in the spirit of Christmas I will say they lived quite long, and they were very happy while they lived. 

Copyright © Charles Henderson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |

Almost Remorse

The slowest clocks bind the official wound,
An azimuth of the flesh, trust, first contact,
She blinks but no face appears, 
Does every mistake ask for such an ordinary end?  A seed cannot forget.
Cold, weeping statue of lifetimes, suckle her prayer in the erupting bed.
Fallen beside the tear of the flower blight, lips against the penetrator,
Learn to forgive the righteous terrors for an idle comfort.
What numbing freedom presses the soft lump pulse?
Tongues rally to expose the ghost of private remorse,
Who conceals the dignities of a suction thigh grave.


Copyright © W.P. VanDam | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |



Eye am risking the loss of some merits to at least prove to some of you that to do 
the works of JESUS is the right and lawful thing to do the man was just like me 
he seems to be a homeless and eye asked him to share my food he said no he 
was taken care of a food card from the service. Eye wound up giving nothing but 
a courtesy yet my blessing is unending the words that JESUS speaks are meant 
to be the life we breathe and giving is so certainly the thing to do. Not bragging 
unnecessarily just letting people knoe to do the works he says to do. Offer 
someone food if they can take it it will help you if they refuse it you can eat it 
seems to me there is nothing there to lose. Now the food eye have to eat is better 
for the act of sharing even the man is not eating with me the food it's doubly 
better in proportions. Show me the house that's built on stilts that's built on sand. 
There is a temporary church that meets inside the main church building they 
usually start the service at nine thirty today they went out on a run away there was 
no church service even eye usually go just to knell down near the table and thank 
Jesus for the offering there there is Coffee and some coffee cake and other 
things as well but today eye am on mye own attempting more than one thing at a 
time it seems beyond the eye trying to stay hooked into the wonder of this life for 
it seems like GOD is just like Santa Clause to me when we have it in our heart to 
do he sees it just the same. 
Eye still carry my raincoat my umbrella even though it has not rained for many 
weeks I'm ready. The place eye like to visit has been pulled out from under me 
the preacher needs to visit his own prayer room just to see how dark his heart is 
to become without his love. He warned me not to trespass and so far eye have 
not been back but the wonder of it all is that the place still seems to stand a 
monument to decadence a monument to disgrace. They knoe that eye am 
homeless eye still walk the street without a place. The blankets in the dump 
seem so nice when eye am cold. Foolishness or wisdom tell me preacher what 
would you do when the sky was falling would you stick your turkey neck up to the 
rain and then just drown or would you find a church with a poor doorway to get 
dry. The path is narrow the climb is steep and harrow the preacher fast asleep. 
Eye cry a homeless to the end of time. 

Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008

Details | Prose Poetry |

Answer Prayer

He came down at my level
He heard my cry
He saw every obstacle
He made a path in my red sea

He sent His spirit 
He assured my comfort
He gave me angels
He lighted my candle

He saw in my heart
He knew His portion
He gave me His word
And He answered my prayer

Copyright © Olivia Nimley | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |

Fresh Studies

Sometimes, what you find in a study can only be expressed                            in the way that you walk it out. Occasionally, one can attempt                        to explain in words what his recent studies have revealed.
Many things that we have already learned are no longer fresh,                    and yield much to be desired for a fulfilling life.

I must say that when I chose Him to be the one in whom
I would chose to put my faith, I did not discover him through
study or research.  Nor yet was it a religion that I submitted to,                               but rather a relationship to which I was drawn. It was at face                             value and His words that both captured and arrested me.

This then is my feeble attempt at communicating                                            the present freshness that I am finding in Jesus Christ.
He's busy, but never harassed or hurried.
He is more gracious than I ever realized;
More forgiving than I ever understood;
More merciful than anyone can imagine.

He doesn’t mind washing the feet of his followers.
He delights in serving, not taking from, his disciples;                                                                     He's so practicle that he likes fixing their breakfast.
Sometimes, he answers before we even ask the question.
He's more patient with me than I am with myself.
He gives me more of everything when I have nothing left.

He weeps with the weepers, and reveals himself to the seekers.
He gets amazed with our faith, and races to our rescue.
He sleeps in storms, and awakes when we call him.
He loves to bring peace and security to me.

He offers love to me and takes away the fear
He gives me calm and poise, wiping away every tear                                                                    He causes me to clearly see, and quiets the storms at sea                                                                           
He commands everything to be still in me.

He calls men and women to forsake all and follow him.
He demands first place in our hearts. Who does this!!!?
07102009;FBHM07172017PSContest, Religion, and/or Philosophy,
Kai Michael Neumann

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |




Being the seeds of the seeds 
Of the fruits of our beginnings,

Yours is the destiny to give reality 
To the visions of the dreams
Once deferred.

(There is much for you to pursue and do)

Listen, chickens have their places;
You my children, are eaglets: 
Heirs of Sons of the Sun.

Spread wide your wings!
Feather your nests!
Soar in glory!

The all seeing eye is upon you;
The pyramids stand before you;
The flowing river is behind you.

(There is much for you to pursue and do)

Never forget whose and who you are;
Always mindful of what you must be:

The peace, the love and the unity
Of our beloved liberty.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |


I woke up this morning 
Heard a whisper in my ear. 
Said "Go back up the mountain 
Something more you need to hear." 

Looked out the window 
At the mountain I did stare 
Something then came over me 
Got on my knees in prayer 

The voice kept on haunting me 
Till no longer I could sleep. 
Is it my Soul or my Sanity? 
The mountain wants to keep? 

Is there such a mountain? 
Or is it only in my mind? 
Seems it keeps on telling me 
There's something I need to find 

Last time there He told me 
Of all the things He's done 
But I forgot to ask Him 
Why he took my son? 

Was there any reason? 
That I'll always question why. 
He's no longer with us. 
Why, was he the one to die? 

Said I should take His hand, 
Put my trust in Him. 
But I must be honest now 
My faith in Him is rather dim. 

Last time on that mountain 
His words went right into my heart, 
But the more I kept on thinking 
It started to tear my heart apart. 

Why is it so hard for me 
To believe in what You say? 
That there is a better place 
And You will show the way 

Did I lose my sanity? 
Did I lose my soul. 
Only this damn mountain knows 
If there's more stories to be told

Copyright © Donald Eissler | Year Posted 2012