Prayer seems reduced

to nothing more

   than endless demands

     from sight gone dim


As if God were a toy,

a fairy godmother

   borne to carry out

     each childish whim


“Help my aunt get well,” we pray.

“Help me find my cat,” we say.

   “Bless the bishop; bless the priests,

     Save the people, save the beasts.”


The list goes on

as if God were a pawn

     with purpose reduced

       to saving aunts and cats


Our prayers should be, instead,

Petitioning on behalf of others


We talk,

not ever listening

     to what we ourselves have said,

      never mind what God might say




Kyrie Eleison.


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