Stillness

I kneel and pray, a worn out listening prayer,

A prayer of silence, of quieting my mind,

Of laying out before Him all my care,

In quiet darkness, in soft close emptiness

Of midnight in this empty, holy place.

Gazing at the crucifix before my face,

And under it the tabernacle veiled

In purple. I kneel before it, resigned

To the ineptitude of language; words fail

Beneath the crushing weights that vaguely press

Upon my soul. I lay it at His feet,

Breathe and release all worry, fear and pain

The leaden weight of grief upon my chest,

The lump of tears unshed, my worst and best:

The love that sorrows, the pride that will not weep.

I have to let it go. I make no excuse,

You know it better than I. You know its worth,

Light of heaven, fumes of hell, dust of the earth

All tumbled in one heap, no earthly use

In my worrying about it all. One great big gnarly dump

Of human folly, sin, potential and Divine grace.

What is there for me to say? But let me hear.

There is a peace of soul in letting go,

In knowing I’m not you.