Prayers in the Attic

Pin It Another day starts and I talk in my head,
An uttered prayer and then roll out of bed.
I ne’r did pause or think to know,
About what I’d asked or how it’d go.

I was anxious yes, for another day,
When prayer was through and it was time for play.
I quickly finished my hurried prayer,
No thought to where it went from there.

For days on end and then for weeks,
My prayers were often quick and weak.
For I had things, yes thing to do,
My prayers were said, oh that I knew.

The years swept by and one day I crept,
Up our creaky attic steps.
I was curious then what I may find,
Up in a space unused by time.

I stumbled o’er something on the floor,
Dusty covered and left unstored.
I bent down and brushed away the dust,
From the hardened surface, caked with rust.

I drew in a gasp for there it lay,
A prayer I once had thought I’d prayed.
I saw another and dozens ‘round,
Prayers I’d prayed thought heaven-bound.

I could only then wonder why they stay,
And not off on their journey so far away.
I then felt tears escape my eyes,
As I realized that I had not tried.

I could recall with each one,
The things I’d prayed but left undone.
The Lord hadn’t answered or so I thought,
But he couldn’t return calls He never got.

I see that prayers to heaven never go,
When spoken thoughtless by us below.
With confidence renewed I then said,
A vow I would do better instead.

For never again did I want the disgrace,
Of letter to God in this dusty space.
And so let us try with power spent,
Into heartfelt prayers to ensure they’re sent.

—Teachinfourth