‘Be still and know….’
I oblige--
Until
calming words bubble from my own mouth,
Or rather from my mind
Soothing my inner adult,
forcing it to
regress
and relent to the pensive child I am.
Breathe in--
Ah Lord Jesus, come.
Breathe out--
I expel wordless breaths
that are considered thoughts, that are turned into prayers
when strung together in my subconscious
whilst I sit unawares--
Just me and my cat
or perhaps there’s one more
lets make it three, rather,
for God plus me makes four.
I search Google for poetry
I find naught but prayers
Perhaps, then, they’re similar--
Like warm breath and winter air.