Prayer is poetry taken to the limit, speech turned toward the unsayable. To speak to God. Imagine that! But what can one say to God? At its deepest level a true prayer says nothing at all, simply 'yes' and — as Jacques Derrida has reminded us— “yes” to that “yes.”
Kevin John Hart
PRAYER O come, in any way you want, In morning sunlight fooling in the leaves Or in thick bouts of rain that soak my head Because of what the darkness said Or come, though far too slowly for my eye to see, Like a dark hair that fades to gray Come with the wind that wraps my house Or winter light that slants upon a page Because the beast is stirring in its cage Or come in raw and ragged smells Of gumleaves dangling down at noon Or in the undertow of love When she's away Because a night creeps through the day Come as you used to, years ago, When I first fell for you In the deep calm of an autumn morning Beginning with the cooing of a dove Because of love, the lightest love Or if that's not your way these days Because of me, because Of something dead in me, Come like a jagged knife into my gut Because your touch will surely cut Come any way you want But come.
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