April is National Poetry Month and having just finished April, this week’s Chaplain’s Log is a poem written by one of our recent SBC graduates.
“The Difficulty of Prayer”
Yesterday I realised
That I haven’t prayed much lately
I’ve not knelt down by my bed
Hands clasped, eyes closed
(Preferably with candlestick holder beside),
And brought it to the Lord in prayer.
I have not held my arms aloft,
Or uttered strange words under my breath.
But I did yelp and jump out the way
When the waves thundered onto the shore
And the undertow grabbed hold of every pebble
Clattering each against another.
I did thump my knee in time
Listening to the theme from Local Hero
On the road from Alford to Oyne.
And I gathered my son and daughter
Into a cringey group hug
Kissing their cheeks, whispering:
You are precious to me.
You are precious to God.
I can’t bear to start a prayer
Like correspondence to be typed up
Starting, Dear God,
Ending, Yours sincerely, Amen.
But my sister and I delighted
In following six deer in the dunes
Imagining their conversation
In our Eastenders voices.
Later, we sat silently,
Where movement, or music,
Would have ruptured
Something sacred.
I don’t know how to intercede
The world is too big
Too much information, and sorrow.
But the foetal position
When reading that CNN report,
The sobbing, fearful tears
Did come perfectly naturally.
Like the wonder of watching
A rabbit lollop across the road,
A pheasant refusing to shift,
Lambs chasing a goose,
Banks of daffodils
Blowing in the breeze.
Like marvelling at a double rainbow,
Or the most ancient of stones,
Or a stricken-looking bow fiddle rock,
And the cleverness of those Stevensons
Building lighthouses on distant reefs.
All those old stories,
Enjoying their endless re-telling.
And now I wonder
If prayer is something felt, not said.
If what comes easy
Is actually enough.
If what comes simply
Is actually plenty.
(Roz Lawson, used by permission)