Microprayers: First Week

What is this quintessence of dust?

William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Ashen brain breathes ashen prayers.
My God –
can ashes rise?

Dust clings to prayer’s mouth.
I breathe;
Prayer disperses…

Dust too collects in glory’s crevices;
I long
for life, not death.

Water me with the condensation of
Your Spirit.
Make me mud to mould.

Published by Matthew Pullar

Teacher, writer, blogger, husband, father, Christian. Living in Wyndham in Melbourne's west, on the land of the Kulin Nation. Searching for words to console and feed hearts and souls.

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