Prayer

Prayer

Prayer

Lord of the linear narrative,
Show me the point at which I should begin.
Stop me when I have said as much as I should.
Regulate my voice, I boom too much
And my whispers are shrill.
Feed me words on those long, slow afternoons.
Allow me the grace of serendipity –
To find lost continents on my tongue.
Give me the gift of silence,
And then set me adrift.