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Work out—
Let your body speak:
Flesh stretching,
Fibers straining,
Blood pounding,
Mind alert.

There’s a list—
Push-ups, planks, presses—
Each one chasing the same prize:
Strength.
Discipline.
Endurance.

But one remains unsung,
Unseen in gym mirrors,
Unlisted in fitness charts,
Unshared across the globe.

It is the exercise of the unseen—
A sacred training:
Prayer.

Not whispered ritual,
But a fire-breathed posture—
Spirit clenched,
Soul bending,
Body bowed low.

This workout unbinds:
Spirit ignited,
Soul awakened,
Mind renewed—
A trembling reach
That brushes the robe of God.
Spirit meeting Spirit,
Deep calling unto deep.

They call it prayer.
But I—
I know it as sweat of the soul.

For while the body gains little,
The one who presses through to touch the Divine
Is changed.
Expanded.
Exalted.
Magnified.
Rebecca 4d
Oh God, I already knew from the first moment I met you that I would never be like the kids of my age: every night I went to my knees and prayed, it was not a prayer of peace, nor of tranquility, in fact I remember crying and sometimes screaming: ''My God deliver me from this flesh, from this sinful body and let me go with you''. Meanwhile the sweet little friends of mine slept in their homes, not knowing anything.
Zee 6d
The person you are trying to reach.
Is unavailable.

As in emotionally distant.
As in you can't get through.

There's no use in leaving.
A voice message.

As it wouldn't get through.
So you'll try again in an hour.

Please leave a message.
Please leave a message.
Please leave a message.

Yet there was never a message.
That was left just for you.

As you're left wondering.
What on earth to do.

Surely even god answers a prayer or two.
Kyla Apr 23
"hi there,
I'm here to confirm your death
this is your last chance- speak now or forever hold your peace!"
(writes ‘patient lying in bed with eyes closed. no signs of life. identity confirmed.')

"i'm just going to perform a few tests
can you hear me? (she shakes them, inflicts one final pain)
does this hurt?"
(writes 'no response to verbal cues or supraorbital pressure')

"i'm just going to have a listen in to your chest"
their heart is finally still
not broken, or aching
lungs empty,
forever breathless
(writes 'no heart or lung sounds on auscultation, no carotid pulse on palpation')

“i’m just going to shine a wee light into your eye)
she pries open their lids and looks for life,
finds the same every time
empty tunnels gazing above
eyes wide open, taking in what comes next
what horror? what wonder?
(writes 'pupils fixed and dilated')

“that’s us all done now, they’ll take you down to the morgue”
uttered to a body waxy and fixed
often warm
hands held by so many
now forevermore empty
('death verified at/on')

and then-

she strokes their hair, the way their mother did as they were laid in her arms
gently closes their eyes
traces a cross on their foreheads
tucks them into their deathbeds
leaves them to sleep

God, have mercy, on this your child
for you know the life they lived,
you made and dreamed of them
be with those they left

God, be kind
I hope you are at peace
Be at peace
credits to geeky medics
Theo Apr 23
Somedays You help us awake,
and shy though we are,
you patiently wait.
As the light shines forth,
we always seem to forget.
But you wait, patiently,
while all the while,
softly pouring a ray of spring sunlight,
and the chirping of birds that begins each morning.
the sounds of the earth beginning and waking up.
and your prayers are missed by me mostly,
yet thank you i must for this day as each day,
that try as i might
to navigate the inner waterways, the oceans mighty,
i always tend to forget, miss, really,
the sweet blooms in front of me.
The honeycomb face of a displaced yet ever so naughty monkey.
This fruit that i now bite into
and the thanks i slip past the crowding
for all your gifts to me.
Yes-
Thank you.
napowrimo day 23
neth jones Apr 22
jocular hack of a day
sideways   and flinty with snow
the winds dictate  the true streets of this city
turbine life outside  is in retreat or insurance
sing in the sunny pleasure
let the weather match celebration
beast of spring forgive
our lustless plunder and dumbing
quake us from our numb standard
ferry us
16/04/25
AWURAA Apr 10
"I don't think he was on his lunch break, he was still on the job as he couldn't get time off for Ramadan."

"Yes, he was fasting, still on route and could not get of, so with the need to pray, he chose to do so within his short break before he changed routes."

" Wisdom to him was knowing that he must pray."

"The room was dark and his skin was a shadow that could be seen by those who noticed and looked closely."

" I noticed, so I looked closely.
He placed the newspaper down on the ground."

"?"

"At first I thought it was the wipe up the ***** that could have found but then he knelt down."

" I was puzzled and I knew my face showed it ... so I watched him, my head cocked to the side, eyes fixed, I chose to reside, I was conscious of those around me, buses that passed slowly, but, he had me fixed, awestruck, so I chose to reside."

"He bent over, head down, mumuring words; I could not make out the sounds."

"And then he stood up, head down, head up, I could not make out a sounds."

" I knew I should have looked away, that it was a private moment and I was disturbing it, but I was not the middle man for his prayers."

" I was the onlooker, curious of  the man who made a newspaper his prayer-mat and the bus, his prayer-room."

" So I watched, three minutes go by, eyes fixed, this one kid sees me staring and follows my gaze, tracing it back to the earnest praying man."

" Then he looks with me, then it's us, it's us watching him; the man on the bus with his paper-mat."
Lucas Stone Apr 10
she likes to follow me
into the steam
where the water blurs
kinda somewhere between her skin
and my dreams
she says to don’t give any mind to her
she's just here to kneel and pray
i don't speak

she listens to the way i breathe

when i think no one is near
i let her finish praying
and let out a big scream
i thinks she kinda likes it
when i call her Amen

💭
White Owl Apr 8
Oh God, how long until my woes
Transfigure into peace?
Until the violent storms inside my skull
Will finally cease?
Until the gaping emptiness
I feel beneath my ribs
Is filled with warmth and joyousness?
That's all I plead You give!

Around me I see people full
With water, meat and wine.
I see them eat together --
Oh, how carefree they all dine!
When hunger hasn't gripped my gut,
I've gorged on rotten meat.
And when my throat has not been dry,
Vinegar's been my treat.

Please give me, Lord, a future hope
That isn't a mirage.
I look for peace, but pain attacks
In relentless barrage.
My spirit grumbles -- do take ear
And help my soul to thrive.
Mend this broke heart and give me strength
To want to be alive.
Jul '24
Paranoid,
Panicked,
Concerned.
Can I do without it?
Can I live a life without anxiety?
I hope so,
I pray for peace,
I pray,
Is that a root of concern in me?
Keeping a level head is tough
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