Prayer

Some poems
are more than poems
because some poems
are prayers.

Just you
reaching out your hand
in a time of need,
and then the surprise of finding another hand,
a larger hand,
reaching out in return.

And this larger hand,
which is both your own
and immeasurably more,
speaks to you, softly:

This world is a world
you participate in.

It is not theatre
that simply arrives at your senses,

but you are a painter,
and the world would be your masterpiece,
if only you could find a way.

Even your questions
have come back to you,
walking a grace
you never knew you had,
asking you, once again,
apprentice yourself.

However you answer,
your prayers will be answered.

The universe will find its own way
to love you.