Savita Tyagi


A Prayer - Poem by Savita Tyagi

This imperfect vessel made of soft clay
Can't hold all the precious blessings
So gingerly upon my psyche you lay.
Why should I crave for what is not mine?
What is mine O Lord! Is only a gift of thine.
Make me strong! Make me hardy.
You have put a brush in my hand
Let my strokes be any thing but tardy.

Topic(s) of this poem: prayer

Form: Free Verse


Comments about A Prayer by Savita Tyagi

  • Akhtar Jawad (7/28/2016 8:39:00 AM)


    A touching prayer, so nicely penned in a wonderful poem. (Report) Reply

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  • Daniel Brick (7/8/2016 10:35:00 PM)


    What a tender poem! You are addressing the Lord of the Universe and the Creator of all things Visible and Invisible.
    But there's no theology or special pleading or vain boasting. This is a sweet conversation with God, person-to-person. You lift up your soul in quiet devotion, confident that God's answer will be a whisper in your heart. Religion means relationship and the relationship you present here is love and trust.
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, July 5, 2016



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