Not Sponged Away... Simply Real
Prayer on the Train
Lord Jesus Christ
if only I could pray to you
as once I did
- a last listening one in the loneliness -
but now you are gone...
Spong-ed out of existence by the modern world.
To whom did I pray?
To whom do I speak now?
Am I simply giving the little boy of my soul a voice?
Or do I entertain a warm memory of what I once thought was...
Wishing for a comfort I may not have.
The little boy and the lonely one inside are surely crying out to you
but there is more than warm memory
pretence
and longing for a past of innocence
for the cry from my deep
flows with the reality of what is
and though you are not the Jesus of Palestine
or the Lord Christ...
I am not alone
