04-28-2020, 02:57 AM
Unanswered Prayer
I hear each one of you
at the same time, each one
at the same time. Your voices
are a swarm of bees. You speak
like I’m deaf—an unclimbable,
smooth wall, or uncaring,
an empty cloud
without power or tears.
The sky is not closed to you
because of what I lack,
but because of what I possess.
Yet, I am a genie in your story used
to fulfill wishes, but I’ve read that story.
I’ve read every story. The shadows
that surround you may pass or should
remain. I see beyond the pages.
Do you provide all your children request?
You see further. It isn’t fair;
I cannot pray. I can only turn to myself,
and I am the source and end
of every prayer--and light beyond all shadow.
I hear each one of you
at the same time, each one
at the same time. Your voices
are a swarm of bees. You speak
like I’m deaf—an unclimbable,
smooth wall, or uncaring,
an empty cloud
without power or tears.
The sky is not closed to you
because of what I lack,
but because of what I possess.
Yet, I am a genie in your story used
to fulfill wishes, but I’ve read that story.
I’ve read every story. The shadows
that surround you may pass or should
remain. I see beyond the pages.
Do you provide all your children request?
You see further. It isn’t fair;
I cannot pray. I can only turn to myself,
and I am the source and end
of every prayer--and light beyond all shadow.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson