Bmethod Of Prayer Poem by Barry A. Lanier

Bmethod Of Prayer



There were methods of kneeling and sitting,
fine methods, if you lived in a country, where
stones are smooth, and sands are rough.
Men dreamed wistfully of hidden corners,
where knee or hind fit slate or sand.
Their prayers, weathered chants, and
ephemeral words uttered in sequence, as
if this shedding of syllables merged them
to the sky.

These were men who had been shepherds
so long they walked as camels.
Under mangrove trees, they raised arms-
God hear us! We have so much pain on earth!
Our burdens overflowing, and our coffers full!
While achar, dalls, and olives bobbed peacefully
in aromatic barrel of vinegar, dill, and thyme.
Then feasting on Chappati bread and Paneer,
and were content in spite of the pain,
because there was also happiness.

There were those who didn't believe in prayer.
The young ones, influenced by western culture,
and the insolence and ignorance of youth.
Worshipping their internet and delusions of grandeur,
telling the old ones, 'you are wasting your time.'
The old ones prayed for the young ones, praying
to Allah to repair their brains, for the water, moon,
or stars to suddenly speak to them so they heed.

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