dirtjoy

A Prayer

Instantly the past is gone;
Nothing in it was ever mine.
I need not cry or worry or fight
About people or words or hurts gone by.

I cannot tell the future,
Never could, although I’ve tried.
It isn’t mine and never will be;
To think it so is false—a lie.

All that’s required is that I open my eyes
To the Reality of Now which is infinitely wise,
And speak the only prayer that’s never been wrong:
Thank You.
To all I belong.


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