Prayer
A collection of fragmentary meditations
Prayer A prayer on prayer For prayer through prayer The need I have to speak To Him who formed a cosmos from the sod For men are galaxies of complexity Star-like children of the God who kindled stars. Every cell a solar system Every man a wandering planet On a planet in a system In a universe of a cell. We—the middle men of infinity A little lower than the angels But stamped in God’s own image. “In His image He created them. Male and female He created them.” Prayer. Men and women speak unto their Maker She knowing he will ne’er forsake her, He knowing he is called to awaken her To glories only he can see That he a priest of God to her might be Descrying glory—told in song and story. Every man a cell But no two cells the same. These cosmic men are heirs of God For in their hearts they bear His name The Craftsman’s imago dei is signed Where only saints have learned to find (It’s in the human heart) That black, deceptive hole That God is making whole Until in glory every soul Is pulled into its end. The end which is the beginning The Alpha and the Omega Our last thought as we prayed in death That grace might mark the final breath Our first thought when we wake in glory Ready to begin the story For which our character was formed. That, its one, final purpose To act amid the cosmic circus Fools for Christ like Francis Who like a madman dances With David in procession, Who kneeling in confession, Bore the wounds of Jesus Christ Who on a dusty hill was sacrificed. In some forgotten corner of the world, Love’s crimson banner was unfurled Praise. Prayer. Love. Loving, praising prayer Lifting from the dragon’s lair Shielding from Medusan stare, The glance of the abyssal unknown At the good seed gladly sown By the missionary God, By her stare made stone. Beware, my friend, the dark unknown. God take it and her and throw them in The raging infernos of their sin That burning, self-consuming, Is ever shrinking into nothing Evil’s final consummation. Prayer. Teach us to pray. You guided my steps in life this day. And as I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. And make it fit to bear the throne Intent on You and You alone. Prayer. I pray to God, my God, my Saviour That He would burn my prideful behaviour In the furnace of His love. I pray to Christ, my King, God’s Son, That as in His life the battle’s won So He would win in me Conquer every enemy and make him be my friend. Take every sinful strength and skill And make it serve His sovereign will That they might in me be reborn Through the shredding of the storm Dedragoned and befriended By the Gardener who has mended Every pain and every fear Through the mirror of the tear Rolling down the lion’s face Ending in divine embrace. This the hope of every soul That one day it will be made whole. But for now—prayer.


Loved this, Aaron. Great way to begin my Sunday. Thank you!
This is incredibly beautiful. The Francis reference made me smile.