**Inspired by the spoken word performance I went to last night and the conversation that followed.**
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Prayer is a litany
a liturgy---
the work of the people.
Prayer is words
no, more than words--
a conversation.
I squeeze out words through my teeth,
out of my fingertips.
Sometimes onto paper--
mostly into the dense air
hoping that maybe, just maybe
I'll hear a voice.
Hoping maybe, just maybe
a bush will turn ablaze.
Prayer--
the work of the people.
Prayer--
not just soft words spoken to the immense
sky up above
or to the back of my eyelids
trying to find God wherever I can
to tell her how I feel...
saving it for a moment that is just between us
because no one else understands.
Not just sweet whispers
Sometimes firm demands
Sometimes angry shouts
Sometimes painful tears
... too painful to speak.
We try to make meaning--
cuz that's what we're told.
We try to hold back tears--
cuz that's what we're told.
"Why?" they ask.
Why?
Why?
Go ahead and ask my "Why?" one more time--
because for the last time I'll tell you...
I JUST DON'T KNOW.
I don't know why it hurts.
I don't know why this joy has me beaming.
I don't know why life has people stuck in vicious cycles
of oppression and violence.
I don't know.
Can't that be enough?
Prayer--
my litany.
my liturgy.
my words.
My sometimes soft, sometimes angry
words.
My hopes, fears, joys, doubts, desires, pain, struggle.
My words.
For when I don't have the words.
But I am confident.
They're Gods words too.
She feels... this... too.
Above all else
my prayer-- my words--
are our words.
They acknowledge that this pain
these desires
these hopes
....are real.
For all of us.
one people.
bound together.
by God.
