Monday, November 12, 2012

Prayer: The Book of Uncommon Prayer

Deliver me to myself
that I may stop
fretting the hours in vain,
looking for what's lacking
always elsewhere and otherwise.
Let befall me the peace
which drops like wind,
suddenly, between even the slightest
folds of a linnet's wing,
between shadow and sky, the hush
like the intervals of quiet
between questions, between the calls
of crickets, the sorrows
of one season and the next,
swift and sure and sharp
as grace.

Katherine Mosby, 1996