When I first started this poem, it ended very differently.  It had a version of this poem as it’s final verse.  I liked all of the parts, but it didn’t work together as a whole, so I split it up, reworked, added, and was much happier with the two poems.  Of course they are obviously still connected.

Here’s what I know.  This isn’t bad.  There are some requests I can’t make of God.  It’s not a negative comment on my relationship with God.  It’s a recognition of reality.  God doesn’t work magic.  There is no way for me to wake up tomorrow and have my problem(s) solved.  Asking for that, expecting that, don’t help me.  God does work with me, in and through the problems.

there are prayers I do not,
cannot pray
pretty words brought together,
ordered for intents
I cannot join
prayers assuming healing,
seeking a world—
whole and without flaw,
which I cannot find
and yet I want my God
to be the God who hears,
maybe answers?
these prayers I cannot pray

written 7-23-08