kneel – Innerdialects

….the touch of experience, the taste of a new day

the sight of vision, the hearing of the muted, the sense of loss, the smell of hope,

the unseen tomorrow….these and some

stir my ‘heart ‘ – ah that organ of awareness we’ve placed somewhere ‘tween head & rib.

And oh when my spirit opens itself to pray…

what words could describe the Sensory of Prayer? We as a Race are sands shifting in the growing Light of Dawn,

the growing Life of Light in my dark: the sight of things I touch in my core, by a power they call Faith…. what is that described? Must I describe it, for who? Why write, share moments broken from ‘accepted’ norms, why care, why heal? Why kneel, why weep joy,

Why bless for curses; why Love for hate, why rejoice in suffering, what is this; hell heaven, Christ, Lucifer and the Spirit of every man and woman and child – running deep from what we hide, deny

Like the spirit inside that keels, needs to pray

Something that began in a dawn:

*Sean Parker Photography, Joshua Tree park.*

…before the day lends you her voice, sing in the silent beams of dawn, lean yourself on the face of light as it breaks the dark,

oh burrow your heart in true Light’s ceaseless pressure, shifting shade, pulsing throbbing warming cold cold night.

Pray in His heart, yeah the ‘oceans rage and the peoples imagine a vain thing’, as clay returns to clay and dust to dust,

Hush in the hour as Dawn begins

hide in the Arms of Prayer, hold It against your soul: here no greed for power, no need for self arrest your heart: here oh here, begin,

where no foot of pride hides in prophecies of doom, where no angel weeps but for the joy of Heaven, and no anthem of ‘self’ rules-

ach! None but His:

Who’s Breath breathes for me&you: born to Cross hell with Him, here arrest restlessness, keel, kneel, pray in the first light of Heaven that with bated breath waits,

here, before it is too late, pray my soul in His heart.

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