I, who live by words, am
wordless when
I try my words in prayer. All
language turns
To silence. Prayer will take my words
and then
Reveal their emptiness. The stifled voice
learns
To hold its peace, to listen with the
heart
To silence that is joy, is adoration.
The self is shattered, all words torn
apart
In this strange patterned time of
contemplation
That, in time, breaks time, breaks
words, breaks me,
And then, in silence, leaves me
healed and mended.
I have returned to language, for I see
Through words, even when all
words are ended,
I, who live by words, am
wordless when
I turn me to the Word to pray.
Amen.
