The God we pray to

The God we pray to is the God of our pagan forefathers.
The God we pray to is the God of myths.
We do not pray to the true God.
We pray to the God of our ideas, of our religions
We pray to the God that we believe is like Santa Claus granting our wishes
We pray to a God in heaven so far away
We say that God is omnipresent, but we don’t really believe it
God is in heaven so far away
This is the God of our pagan forefathers
The true God is not so far away
Our true God is close
God being omnipresent, is then within every atom of our being
Not far away in Heaven
Why have we forsaken God and put him so far away
When our God is ever present in every breath, in every day, in every moment
When we, pray it’s assuming a separation
As if God doesn’t know our every want, our every desire, our every need
We pray because we feel lost
We pray with hope that we are not alone
We pray that there is a connection to God
Then what should we pray
We pray that we see
We pray that we see God close
We pray that we see God so close that God is all we see
We pray that we see the world through God’s eyes
We pray that we see God not so far away

Copyright Don MacLeod

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The Dark Shape of It

You knit the dark shape of it every day
from the dimness at the edge of each day’s sight
and the tethered drift of human shadows
that you catch and jar.

You knit the dark shape of it every evening
alone at the scratched table
or staring at the ceiling as the bath grows tepid
and the rooms around you lose light.
You tell the knots and stitches like beads
pushing away grace, weaving in trespass
that you kiss, yell, whisper, pet, catalogue.

You lay the dark shape of it over you every night
to cover, wrap, smother, mildew, chill.

Copyright Kay Winter