Knocking Once Again, God

I’m awfully tired Lord, and I do not want to be ~ ~
I’d rather be selfish, Lord, and write my poetry.
There are some folks out there, on a special net
who have praised my words, and now, and yet

these words I write don’t mean so very much
like writing about someone and their very special touch
about being so in love, or even being in pain
about a sun’s own magic, or the touch of rain.

Yet, for relief from my thoughts, I go there often to read
the other poets’ words, for they are what I need;
they mirror my own feelings, they speak to my own heart
I’m sure You are not amazed at the wisdom they impart.

I thank you Lord, the catharsis that you’ve shown
in the enchantment of writing about the vast unknown,
never suspecting once my words would be a very part
of touching other’s sympathies, and their own hearts.

So naturally I will pray that you
continue to care for the folks that do
read, and write, and create this very art
so that I may find rest, and a place to lay my heart.

15 September, 1999
©KRJ