Grace Poem by Mahathi Mydavolu

If my silence has voice, I'm sure you're there
listening to my woe. If stony face
my has some etched pain-lines you sure aware
of them. Yes Lord...I'm wating for your grace.

What if I don't say prayers, and paeans sing;
What if I don't burn incense, light a bright
oil wick and offer you some sweet pudding;
as you're the Savior, you're the word the light!

But yet oh roil a billion muddles
inside my mind and heart my seeks answers
to doubts and lo a lot of twined riddles
surround my being like dancing cruel lancers.

Well then whom else I seek the alms of bliss.
I try and try until I gain noesis.