Prayer XXIII
Then a priestess said, "Speak to us of Prayer."
And he answered, saying:
You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might pray also in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance.
For what is prayer but the expansion of yourself into the living ether?
And if it is for your comfort to pour your darkness into space, it is also for your delight to pour forth the dawning of your heart.
And if you cannot but weep when your soul summons you to prayer, she should spur you again and yet again, though weeping, until you shall come laughing.
When you pray you rise to meet in the air those who are praying at that very hour, and whom save in prayer you may not meet.
Therefore let your visit to that temple invisible be for naught but ecstasy and sweet communion.
For if you should enter the temple for no other purpose than asking you shall not receive.
And if you should enter into it to humble yourself you shall not be lifted:
Or even if you should enter into it to beg for the good of others you shall not be heard.
It is enough that you enter the temple invisible.
I cannot teach you how to pray in words.
God listens not to your words save when He Himself utters them through your lips.
And I cannot teach you the prayer of the seas and the forests and the mountains.
But you who are born of the mountains and the forests and the seas can find their prayer in your heart,
And if you but listen in the stillness of the night you shall hear them saying in silence,
"Our God, who art our winged self, it is thy will in us that willeth.
It is thy desire in us that desireth.
It is thy urge in us that would turn our nights, which are thine, into days which are thine also.
We cannot ask thee for aught, for thou knowest our needs before they are born in us:
Thou art our need; and in giving us more of thyself thou givest us all."
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Related quotes
~ Prayer ~
Beloved you only pray in times of stress or need.
Forget not to pray for the joy and abundance you already have.
Prayer is but the expansion of your self into the Cosmos.
If it is for your comfort to pour darkness into space,
It should also be your delight to pour out the dawning of your soul.
If you cannot but weep when your soul summons you to prayer,
Trust that after weeping you shall find laughter.
When you pray you rise to meet in the air others who pray.
And you recognize each other in sweet communion.
Know that when you enter prayer with no other purpose than asking,
For the sake of asking you shall not receive.
Be invisible and pray not before men.
Beloved I cannot teach you how to pray with words as,
You have but to allow God to speak through your lips.
If you but listen to the stillness of the night you shall hear;
“Father your will is our will”
We need not ask for anything, because you know our needs before us.
Father you are our only need, for in giving of yourself you gives us everything.
(Inspired by Kahlil Gibran)
ROTMS
View more writings, images and video at;
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poem by Ray Lucero
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Prayer Is the Soul's Sincere Desire
Prayer is the soul’s sincere desire,
Unuttered or expressed;
The motion of a hidden fire
That trembles in the breast.
Prayer is the burden of a sigh,
The falling of a tear
The upward glancing of an eye,
When none but God is near.
Prayer is the simplest form of speech
That infant lips can try;
The upward glancing of an eye,
When none but God is near.
Prayer is the Christian’s vital breath,
The Christian’s native air,
His watchword at the gates of death;
He enters heaven with prayer.
O Thou, by Whom we come to God,
The Life, the Truth, the Way;
The path of prayer Thyself hast trod:
Lord, teach us how to pray!
Prayer is the contrite sinner’s voice,
Returning from his ways,
While angels in their songs rejoice
And cry, “Behold, he prays!”
The saints in prayer appear as one
In word, in deed, and mind,
While with the Father and the Son
Sweet fellowship they find.
No prayer is made by man alone
The Holy Spirit pleads,
And Jesus, on th’eternal throne,
For sinners intercedes.
O Thou by Whom we come to God,
The Life, the Truth, the Way,
The path of prayer Thyself hast trod:
Lord, teach us how to pray.
poem by James Montgomery
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Sonnet: On Prayer
The pow’r of prayer can astonish you;
Through prayer, we can speak to God each day.
There isn’t a thing that prayer cannot do!
A miracle can happen, if you pray.
A prayer ought to come deep from your heart;
God hears your prayer if you can just kneel;
Saying a prayer is a faithful’s art!
A prayer must be fervent in appeal.
God answers prayers said by righteous souls;
Through Mary, we can win favors from God;
A hymn of praise or thanksgiving has roles;
When more than two can pray, God will reward.
A prayer can change fate of sinners all;
A prayer breaks sin’s invisible wall!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-3-2008
poem by John Celes
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All Day Long Doses
Pray!
Pray to pray for prayer.
Pray to stay there in prayer.
There is no time to find prayer.
You must pray to make prayer,
The only time you have.
The only key you need...
To unlock all that keeps you fed,
And nourished!
Pray to pray for prayer.
When you're there,
Stay!
Like every wish you keep that comes.
Prayer should be the only thing decided,
That's done every moment you breathe a breath
Of life.
Pray!
Pray to pray for prayer.
Stay there in it!
Take it with you
Like you take and do your faith...
In all day long doses!
Without fear you have taken too long of a break!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lover's Prayer
For love
For life and eternity
This is my prayer
I pray that our love
Is more than enough
To weather the storm
I pray that you're strong
The nights that I'm gone
And you're home alone
I pray you'll forgive
Whateva I did
That brought you the tears
I pray here right now
As I make this vow
We last through the years
Lover's prayer
When I get down on my knees at night
Lover's prayer
I pray God we gonna be alright
Lover's prayer
With my head down and my hands up high
How I hope he will answer my
Lover's prayer
I pray that the sun
Continues to shine
With all that you do
No matter the bad
No matter how low
you'll make it through
I pray that I'm there
Whateve you want whateva you need
I pray that your heart
Carries apart
song performed by by Joe from Better Days
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Solitude Of Prayer
In the solitude of prayer
deep
Lost in moments in between weep
and sleep
In the solitude of prayer
Lonliness finds a rest
Survived another test
Brings out our best
In the solitude of prayer
With nobody there
Except those far away
Reminded of their distant care
In the solitude of prayer
You pray for their smile
For their personal trial
Silently, all the while
In the solitude of prayer
Dreams seem more near
More hope than fear
Thoughts of those past those dear
In the solitude of prayer
Pray for their souls kind
Whose memory is still in your mind
And in your heart
In the solitude of prayer
Pray for your dear friends
Whose heart's you defend
As your own heart they mend
In the solitude of prayer
As for God's wisdom
And his love
As all love comes from above
In the solitude of prayer
Find grace to forgive
And to truely give
And to live
In the solitude of prayer
Recall how to dream
Of warm embraces of affection
And of love returned in your direction
In the solitude of prayer
Pray with conviction
Pray for the impossible
Without fear or restriction
poem by James T. Adair
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Prayer Warriors
We are the prayer warriors and we say the prayers
For all the people for whom we care.
It matters not the position you’re in
If you’re good or if you sinned.
We all need prayers some time in our lives
Especially when things don’t turn out right.
When you’re sick or in despair
The prayer warriors are always there.
You pray for me as I pray for you
And all our prayers will come true.
We do not have to be gathered
As a group when we pray.
In a church, a temple, in a steeple
He listens to all of us, for we are his people.
They say there is strength when we gather in prayer
A common belief that we all share.
So let us pray for our fellow man
Because he now needs a helping hand.
So father we thank you for the blessings each day
And helping all who come your way.
poem by Louis Rams
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A Prayer in Time of War
The war will change many things in art and life, and among them, it is to be hoped, many of our own ideas as to what is, and what is not, "intellectual."
Thou, whose deep ways are in the sea,
Whose footsteps are not known,
To-night a world that turned from Thee
Is waiting -- at Thy Throne.
The towering Babels that we raised
Where scoffing sophists brawl,
The little Antichrists we praised --
The night is on them all.
The fool hath said . . . The fool hath said . ..
And we, who deemed him wise,
We who believed that Thou wast dead,
How should we seek Thine eyes?
How should we seek to Thee for power
Who scorned Thee yesterday?
How should we kneel, in this dread hour?
Lord, teach us how to pray!
Grant us the single heart, once more,
That mocks no sacred thing,
The Sword of Truth our fathers wore
When Thou wast Lord and King.
Let darkness unto darkness tell
Our deep unspoken prayer,
For, while our souls in darkness dwell,
We know that Thou art there.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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Prayer In Time Of War
Now Death is near, and very near,
In this wild whirl of horror and fear,
When round the vessel of our State
Roll the great mountain waves of hate.
God! We have but one prayer to-day -
O Father, teach us how to pray.
For prayer is strong, and very strong;
But we have turned from Thee so long
To follow gods that have no power
Save in the safe and sordid hour,
That to Thy feet we have lost the way . . .
O Father, teach us how to pray.
We have done ill, and very ill,
Set up our will against Thy will.
That our soft lives might gorge, full-fed,
We stole our brothers' daily bread.
Lord, we are sorry we went astray -
O Father, teach us how to pray.
Now in this hour of desperate strife
For England's life, her very life,
Teach us to pray that life may be
A new life, beautiful to Thee,
And in Thy hands that life to lay.
O Father, teach us how to pray.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Ex Ore Infantium
Little Jesus, wast Thou shy
Once, and just so small as I?
And what did it feel like to be
Out of Heaven, and just like me?
Didst Thou sometimes think of THERE,
And ask where all the angels were?
I should think that I would cry
For my house all made of sky;
I would look about the air,
And wonder where my angels were;
And at waking 'twould distress me--
Not an angel there to dress me!
Hadst Thou ever any toys,
Like us little girls and boys?
And didst Thou play in Heaven with all
The angels that were not too tall,
With stars for marbles? Did the things
Play Can you see me? through their wings?
And did Thy Mother let Thee spoil
Thy robes, with playing on OUR soil?
How nice to have them always new
In Heaven, because 'twas quite clean blue!
Didst Thou kneel at night to pray,
And didst Thou join Thy hands, this way?
And did they tire sometimes, being young,
And make the prayer seem very long?
And dost Thou like it best, that we
Should join our hands to pray to Thee?
I used to think, before I knew,
The prayer not said unless we do.
And did Thy Mother at the night
Kiss Thee, and fold the clothes in right?
And didst Thou feel quite good in bed,
Kissed, and sweet, and thy prayers said?
Thou canst not have forgotten all
That it feels like to be small:
And Thou know'st I cannot pray
To Thee in my father's way--
When Thou wast so little, say,
Couldst Thou talk Thy Father's way?--
So, a little Child, come down
And hear a child's tongue like Thy own;
Take me by the hand and walk,
And listen to my baby-talk.
To Thy Father show my prayer
(He will look, Thou art so fair),
And say: 'O Father, I, Thy Son,
Bring the prayer of a little one.'
And He will smile, that children's tongue
Has not changed since Thou wast young!
poem by Francis Thompson
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The Quip
The merry World did on a day
With his train-bands and mates agree
To meet together where I lay,
And all in sport to jeer at me.
First Beauty crept into a rose,
Which when I pluck'd not, "Sir," said she,
"Tell me, I pray, whose hands are those?"
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Then Money came, and chinking still,
"What tune is this, poor man?" said he;
"I heard in music you had skill:"
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Then came brave Glory puffing by
In silks that whistled, who but he?
He scarce allow'd me half an eye:
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Then came quick Wit and Conversation,
And he would needs a comfort be,
And, to be short, make an oration:
But Thou shalt answer, Lord, for me.
Yet when the hour of Thy design
To answer these fine things shall come,
Speak not at large, say, I am Thine;
And then they have their answer home.
poem by George Herbert
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Batuschka
[Author's Note: The title means "little father" or "dear little father", a term of endearment applied to the Tsar in Russian folk-song. --T.B.A.]
From yonder gilded minaret
Beside the steel-blue Neva set,
I faintly catch, from time to time,
The sweet, aerial midnight chime--
"God save the Tsar!"
Above the ravelins and the moats
Of the white citadel it floats;
And men in dungeons far beneath
Listen, and pray, and gnash their teeth--
"God save the Tsar!"
The soft reiterations sweep
Across the horrer of their sleep,
As if some dæmon in his glee
Were mocking at their misery--
"God save the Tsar!"
In his Red Palace over there,
Wakeful, he needs must hear the prayer.
How can it drown the broken cries
Wrung from his children's agonies?--
"God save the Tsar!"
Father they called him from of old--
Batuschka! . . . How his heart is cold!
Wait till a million scourgëd men
Rise in their awful might, and then
God save the Tsar!
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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Prayer For A Prayer
Dearest one, when I am dead
Never seek to follow me.
Never mount the quiet hill
Where the copper leaves are still,
As my heart is, on the tree
Standing at my narrow bed.
Only of your tenderness,
Pray a little prayer at night.
Say: "I have forgiven now-
I, so weak and sad; O Thou,
Wreathed in thunder, robed in light,
Surely Thou wilt do no less."
poem by Dorothy Parker
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This Is My Prayer For You
Peaceful valleys, mountaintops
No dark alleys, or sudden stops
This is my prayer
This is my prayer for you
Love is calling, starry skies
Always falling, but not for lies
This is my prayer
This is my prayer for you
Chorus:
May all your sweet dreams go unbroken
May every wish youve ever spoken
Come true
This is my prayer
This is my prayer for you
Celebrations, true blue friends
Revelations, and a heart that mends
This is my prayer
This is my prayer for you
Repeat chorus
Arms that welcome, doors opened wide
All your loved ones, gathered by your side
This is my prayer
This is my prayer for you
May all your days be filled with laughter
May all your prayers be quickly answered
This is my prayer
This is my prayer for you
song performed by by Reba Mcentire, music by Tony Arata, Gary Scruggs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is Prayer?
Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,
Unuttered or expressed;
The motion of a hidden fire,
That trembles in the breast.
Prayer is the burden of a sigh,
The falling of a tear;
The upward glancing of an eye,
When none but God is near.
Prayer is the simplest form of speech
That infant lips can try;
Prayer, the sublimest strains that reach
The Majesty on high.
Prayer is the Christian's vital breath,
The Christian's native air;
His watchword at the gates of death -
He enters heaven with prayer.
Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice,
Returning from his ways;
While angels in their songs rejoice
And cry, 'Behold, he prays!'
The saints in prayer appear as one,
In word, in deed, and mind;
While with the Father and the Son,
Sweet fellowship they find.
No prayer is made by man alone
The Holy Spirit pleads;
And Jesus, on th' eternal throne
For sinners intercedes.
O Thou! by Whom we come to God,
The Life, the Truth, the Way;
The path of prayer Thyself hast trod:
Lord, teach us how to pray.
As fail the waters from the deep,
As summer brooks run dry,
Man lieth down in dreamless sleep,
His life is vanity.
Man lieth down, no more to wake,
Till yonder arching sphere
Shall with a roll of thunder break,
And nature disappear.
Oh! hide me till Thy wrath be past,
Thou, who canst slay or save!
Hide me where hope may anchor fast,
In my Redeemer's grave!
poem by James Montgomery
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Hymn
I HEARD a voice at midnight, and it cried,
"O weary heart, O soul for which I died,
Why wilt thou spurn My wounded hands and side?
"Is there a heart more tender, more divine,
Than that sad heart which gave itself for thine?
5
Could there be love more warm, more full than Mine?
"What other touch can still thy trembling breath?
What other hand can hold thee after death?
What bread so sweet to him that hungereth?
"Warm is thy chamber, soft and warm thy bed;
10
Bleak, howling winds are round the path I tread;—
The Son of man can nowhere lay His head.
"Wilt thou not open to Me? To and fro
I wander, weary, thro' the driving snow;
But colder still that thou wouldst spurn Me so.
15
"I have a crown more bright than all that be,
I have a kingdom wider than the sea;
But both have I abandoned, seeking thee.
"Poor, weary heart, so worn and sad within!
Oh, open to thy Friend, thy Stay from sin,
20
That I, with all My love, may enter in."
I heard a voice at midnight, and I cried,
"O Lord, I need Thy wounded hands and side—
I need Thy love,—Lord, enter and abide."
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Lord, Teach Us How to Pray Aright
Lord, teach us how to pray aright,
With reverence and with fear;
Though dust and ashes in Thy sight,
We may, we must draw near.
We perish if we cease from prayer;
O grant us power to pray;
And when to meet Thee we prepare,
Lord, meet us by the way.
God of all grace, we come to Thee
With broken, contrite hearts;
Give what Thine eye delights to see,
Truth in the inward parts.
Faith is the only sacrifice
That can for sin atone;
To cast our hopes, to fix our eyes,
On Christ, on Christ alone.
Patience to watch, and wait, and weep,
Though mercy long delay;
Courage our fainting souls to keep,
And trust Thee though Thou slay.
Give these, and then Thy will be done,
Thus, strengthened with all might,
We, through Thy Spirit and Thy Son,
Shall pray, and pray aright.
poem by James Montgomery
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He forgot—and I—remembered
203
He forgot—and I—remembered—
'Twas an everyday affair—
Long ago as Christ and Peter—
"Warmed them" at the "Temple fire."
"Thou wert with him"—quoth "the Damsel"?
"No"—said Peter, 'twasn't me—
Jesus merely "looked" at Peter—
Could I do aught else—to Thee?
poem by Emily Dickinson
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I Said to Love.
I said to Love,
"It is not now as in old days
When men adored thee and thy ways
All else above;
Named thee the Boy, the Bright, the One
Who spread a heaven beneath the sun,"
I said to Love.
I said to him,
"We now know more of thee than then;
We were but weak in judgment when,
With hearts abrim,
We clamoured thee that thou would'st please
Inflict on us thine agonies,"
I said to him.
I said to Love,
"Thou art not young, thou art not fair,
No faery darts, no cherub air,
Nor swan, nor dove
Are thine; but features pitiless,
And iron daggers of distress,"
I said to Love.
"Depart then, Love! . . .
- Man's race shall end, dost threaten thou?
The age to come the man of now
Know nothing of? -
We fear not such a threat from thee;
We are too old in apathy!
Mankind shall cease.--So let it be,"
I said to Love.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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The Subalterns
I
"Poor wanderer," said the leaden sky,
"I fain would lighten thee,
But there are laws in force on high
Which say it must not be."
II
--"I would not freeze thee, shorn one," cried
The North, "knew I but how
To warm my breath, to slack my stride;
But I am ruled as thou."
III
--"To-morrow I attack thee, wight,"
Said Sickness. "Yet I swear
I bear thy little ark no spite,
But am bid enter there."
IV
--"Come hither, Son," I heard Death say;
"I did not will a grave
Should end thy pilgrimage to-day,
But I, too, am a slave!"
V
We smiled upon each other then,
And life to me had less
Of that fell look it wore ere when
They owned their passiveness.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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