He prays because it is what he has always done.
In comfort and confusion his hand ascends skyward,
his mouth trumpets: “Thank you, Jesus.”
And the allegiant coterie’s hushed agreement echo –
‘thank you, Jesus’
Doctrine commanded through his paternal line honors
his father and mother as he is so honored by his issue,
daily prayer always begin “…Our Father…”
And the children’s choir sing in joyous accord –
‘thank you, Jesus’
Listening for the divine in translation — vigilant for answers,
he pleads for clarity and guidance, finding words preached
by man of man’s world, not of the divine, “Please Lord…”
And the hypnotized congregation nod in rapture –
‘thank you, Jesus’
A faith so given, is taken on faith of kind, and blind to question.
Yet he prays, humbled before the word, fearful of the unknown,
head bowed on bended knee, with one eye open.
And the angels dancing on the head of the pin sing –
‘thank you, Jesus’
December 2005
April 2007
October 2019
WandeRoseD 