Imagine a scene where you kneel and call out for mercy, yet sweat forms on your brows, your hands, your knees. Then your eyes close. You genuflect from habit. Then move no muscle, never neglecting the mysterious voice stirring like a tempest inside your mind as prayer evolves into poetry while your life is laid bare.
Ten Reasons To Pray
- Hands: stay industrious so nothing spoils
- Solemnity: eschew pitter-patter or guttural babel
- Like birth: sound breeds distinct coos and caws of history
- Transitory love: Night implores Day and Day implores Night
- Damaged and nearing despair: a mind must know it is alive
- Tricked into a trance: a body must know it is delicate
- Dreamscape: a pure form of paradise lost among the living
- Rearranging atoms: must require weighty ethics and strong hymns
- To reprise and reprise stories of self, your ancient self
- All that is infinite needs hope too