I pray when all is beyond my wits and my strength
I pray when the little I can buy exceeds all my money
I pray when fathers, friends and lovers failed me
I pray to entities I know not, even of imagination and belief

I pray knowingly that strangers, human or ethereal,
     are not obligated to me, even if I begged them
I pray knowingly that I have no wisdom to know
     what to ask, but only that seemingly good for now

I pray unknowingly if these powerful inhuman beings
     can read my mangled incoherent thoughts
I pray unknowingly if the formulated rituals of my ancients
     of magic, prostrations and sacrifices are effective

I 'll be thankful to gods, demons, angels and even men
     for a blessing is a blessing, and any help, is help indeed
I'll be careful not to be entrapped into constant gratitude
     but only to constantly build my wits, strength and money

He knelt before the idol - willingly
Head down, eyes closed - he mutters
Call it the calm before the storm
He begs for his life then strolls off to claim another's.
Flickering candle- one of many, stands homage to his faith.

The smaller candle to the left
Testifies the faith of a quite young one
With a grin on her face - she lists her wish-of-the-day
She hopes for the test, her bestie and her come first
But if push comes to shoves, she adds: "It's always me first."

The smallest of all yet the dirtiest of them all-
Burns ever so slowly-hides the prayer of a mother
Fighting battles all on her own. She fights and she loses.
Her baby cries for milk; her body craves for the kick
She hopes for a miracle - some quick money for a fix.

There was one -  the longest candle of all
I could only wonder the reason for this install.
Is it a gratitude token or a way for prayers to reach faster?
Or does the longest burning candle have its prayers fulfilled first?
Just then the wind blew;

The tallest one flickered and the rest followed through,
But all the candle lighters were on their way
Waiting for their own miracles - they went their way
Holding tightly to their faith,
Faith as small as a mustard seed.

Baby I pray you find peace among the broken pieces of your mind.
That which you claim to be whole

I pray you never have to torture anyone's heart
To console your own tortured soul

I have stuck my love together with glistening tears
and bear you no ill will at all

Sweet baby of mine, I pray you heal
from the black pain you projected on me like nightfall

Be safe baby and I pray you find peace  
for in the cage of your heart there's a door to release.

By #TinaRSH

Yes, a blessed Sunday morning,
A fresh day dawning,
I pray for faith to unite,
In the early morning light,
As our day of earthly prayers does start,
To be blessed, chats straight from the heart!

I saw the seeds of the revolution
dawning
crowning

I heard the propositions from vermi-culture
informing the shift
working it out, sifting it out.

I surfed the micro-ripples of influence through
effectures and prefectures and
excused the old guard through heartfelt
conjectures

There was only one logical conclusion so I
quietly and patiently sat in between
with all our relations.

Under the shade of old growth discernment,
I washed through the oceans of my subconscious,
sifted through the compost for kernels, and
mined the midden for wisdom.

New kingdoms arose from that which was expressed.

The raw materials were ubiquitous.
These re-building blocks pointed to
a platform for the gifting economy.

Then one day I woke up zipping around Los Angeles,
toying with a couple of keys,
Sancho Panza and me, all windmills and wizards.

With only one logical conclusion
I took a chance, learned to dance, and
bid my pretence adieu.

Unpredictably, having lost my lance, I won the war.
Now I sit upon my throne with two mats at my door.
One says presence, one says future, and
both are welcome.

Both are welcome because it is here that I found my agency within my sovereignty
through submission.