Friday, May 4, 2012
As I approach the raw edge of 40 years of age
I've considered how my prayers have changed
over the last decade.
I cannot find words, beyond
one simple phrase or utterance,
that is repeated.
And even more often,
is the fine tuned groan of my soul.
Not that the keen from which my spirit speaks
is the same as that from which the Spirit
lays our requests before the Provider
who gives before I ask~
whatever it is for which I am asking.
But my moan,
when there are no words,
because words are not needed,
stretch from a soul
that also has aged
along with countless others,
that the prayers I utter and mutter and groan
are less about the change I'm requesting
and more about the way
He alters me
with each long note held and sustained before Him.