Chaos and prayer

Without words, prayer falls formless
and void; we must speak
light to scare chaotic thought
into patterns, comforting,
familiar as poppies
in the hedgerow –
the spirit sighs
deeply.

Without prayer, words usurp God,
creating worlds of their own imagination

But when words and prayer collide,
ever-expanding, infinite energy  –

still
the ash falls soft,
smudging the spirit so that
it peers through the blasted prayer
as though through a glass,
dimly.


First published at the Episcopal Cafe

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