Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on prayer.
Go.
It looks so different for so many.
For some, it is the traditional on your knees by your bedside.
For some, it is the even more traditional needing to be in a church.
For some, it is stepping outside, feeling nature wash over you.
For some, it is a yoga class and hearing the in and out of your breath.
For some, it is a bath, washing away the long day and getting back to who you are under it all.
For some, it brings peace.
For some, it brings a surrenduring.
For some, it brings an enlightening.
For some, it brings calm.
For some, it brings tears.
Some feel closer to their God.
Some feel closer to themselves.
Some feel connected to their family.
Some feel a purpose, a reason, their way.
Some feel connected to their past.
Some feel hope for their future.
Stop.
Prayer, it is a sharp cool crosshair
set for wind and elevation,
so the round is going there,
no error and no hesitation.
I wonder what the Lord may feel
in the practice of long rifle;
but to me it's more than real
and the rest is just a trifle
of softness and a civil ethos,
love thy neighbour, yeah, who kills,
and place my heart and trust in Eros,
for romance is what pays the bills...
but that is on a long-gone page,
and I'm now cleared to engage.