Why pray at all? stiff measured reason frowned
though heart unheeding would for love implore
--be logic damned--yet heart now ceded. For
Whose love through every soul inch wound
and intercessor’s frantic fervor drowned
in faith, content unpleading to adore.
As if he’d said: “I could not love them more.”
I: “Lord, it’s hard to pray with you around.”
For where I would cry out with tears, instead
by glory crushed, but whisper hallelu!
Yet mortal fools must ask our daily bread;
at once admit we doubt and know him true,
while God alone perceives, directs above
unyielding logic of unmeasured love.
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