I can recall that first prayer I made
I learnt it from my father indeed.
For me its was uttering 3 stanza
In front of the statues plaza.
Eyes closed, hands folded.

I still remember
I did my prayer
To the utmost satisfaction of my father.
There was a kind of fear
With Father and not with God.

3-stanza utterance continued without fail
As I grew it remained just a customary sail.
No fear of father or God
Prayer still a part of daily guide.
Impatient to complete.

Youth fell on me in due course
It’s like a ride on the horse.
Even forgetting routines
Flew behind all fantasies and thrills.
Prayer totally lost its credence.

Then came litmus test of life ahead,
Acid and Base to be distinguished,
Cried for help and hands raised,
For all odds god was cursed,
For all good he was not thanked.

Then came the time, life at close sight
Peak and recession implicit.
Learnt, even to pray mercy for other’s evilness
An itinerary to seek into consciousness.
Prayer has become a healer to my soul.

Prayer is not to get the virtues with plead
It’s thanks giving for the virtues enjoyed.
Prayer is not a bargain between offering and blessing
It’s a hope within, pledged with musing.
Prayer is to awaken the self and to be refined.

-vidi-
28-04-08

Vidi Writes

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/prayer-65/