I should have learned how to pray
while God was still young,
carefree enough to play
with my words, to hear my tongue
tell rosaries on circular beads
of needs threaded on a string of supplications.
He would have accepted impious deeds
as immature, youthful indiscretions,
condoned them as only fellow youth can.
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Now that He has become the divine Father
in my life and I the mortal son of Man,
we have both grown too old, or rather
too set in our ways to change - I too weak
and He too strong to wrestle for my soul,
to play our own game of spiritual hide and seek.
For me He is the trinity – the game, referee and the goal.
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Published in WHEN BUSH COMES TO SHOVE & OTHER WRITINGS (2006). |
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