If prayer is possibility,
The potential of pregnant prospects,
What can God, always and real, pray for?
I am what I am-not as yet to be,
If so, why pray?
Or I will be what I will be,
And if I pray, I shall be what I wish to be-
I groan under the burden of My Power,
I cry out for relief, the ease that comes with imperfection
Omnipotence offers little hope,
Just disappointment, unmet expectation.
And so I pray:
May it be My will
That My mercy,
Suppress My anger…
Ah this is My God-
The God who prays for His own forgiveness,
Whose compassion trumps all attributes-
I can now hope
To transform my rage
Into a flowering of love,
Taking the thorns of hostility
And shaping their sharpness into petals of gentle roses.
Imitatio dei! Emulate God,
Take His image into your soul
Look mercifully upon your anger
and in this mindful caress of your fury
the heart will open its iron gates and let
the light of mercy shine in
All Godly groaning will be silenced
And the universe will echo the divine sigh
of Self- redemption.