Monthly Archives: January 1997

Prayer

“Prayer” was one of the first poems I wrote, also the most significant because it felt spiritually inspired.

It happened one evening when I was feeling sick and feverish. As I was lying in bed trying to conjure a reprieve, a nagging thought in my head urged me to put a sermon I’d previously heard into prose. So I got up, sat at the computer and started typing. The amazing thing was the fever seemed to have subsided with the last word. Ever since, here is the unedited original version:

 

‘Twas a hot Sunday afternoon
As they gathered at the pew
For the preacher’s words that week
People there, believers few

Feverish with perspiring
They sat alongside each other
And waited for His presence
So they may be delivered

A shuffling of feet
Heads turned
A bright-eyed boy
In hope he burned

For a shade he carried
Much larger than he
Struggled down the aisle
Lit with a grin

As he went by, people sniggered
It’s going to rain,
they taunted and whispered

A smile on his face
The little one turned
Told the crowd
And let it be heard

“I have asked, the week,
of His Almighty
And I hope in meek
Reply is flighty

For the skies to bring showers
Unto this dry land
For flowers to grow
Upon this coarse sand

And see, I’ve brought
Something for my head
For the rain will come,
The little boy said

A hushed silence
As the people heard
For the Lord’s message
Has been delivered

Pray unto Him
And seek to find
The answers to your prayers
Expectance in mind

For then will they be answered
As it has been seen
His Grace and Glory
Will be within

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