Prayer

some day,
i would like to learn
how to pray:

oh,
i can hammer words together
to make a nice box
for you to fill
with what i am sure i need:
but i falter
when i try to climb out
of that hole of hopelessness
i find myself in;

i can bring you
my scrapbook filled
with all the stories
of the brokeness of the world:
but the pages
of my dreams, my fears,
my fickle faith
are out in the trashcan;

i can race to you
to tattle on
all my friends and neighbors
so you will know where all the mud-stains
on their lives come from:
but in my haste
to get to you first,
i stumble over
the shadowed secrets
in my soul.

some day,
i would like to learn how to pray,
Listening God.

(c) 2006 Thom M. Shuman