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A Series of Poems for Prayers: #1 The Weary Life.

The Weary Life


I barely come,

I come.


I am weary,

I search.

Your invitation

has roused me

and given me

the strength

to crawl

into your light.

To inch out of


and awaken to


With so many


I stop and listen.

Exhausting fears

(about the future),

taxing worries

(for those I love),

and the toxic belief:

“It’s all is up to me,”

I come.

In the stillness

I sense you,

and from you

I access peace.

In the quiet

I hear you,

and with you

I have company.

You don’t

fill me.

You don’t

revive me.

You resurrect me.

Over the next few weeks, I will be posting some poems/prayers. We ebb and flow through these points in time; these states o

f human existence: weariness, gratitude, conviction, and worship. What I love about poetry is that it strips away the words, leaving only glimpses and images, snippets of what we often can't put to a long description. And maybe, with so many words, with so much noise and information coming at us all day long, we ne

ed less.


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