A Prayer

My Lord,
The chronicle of my life lies on
a bed of shingles.
Will Your stream
of benevolence run through
this way?
For me to make my sweet haven, again!

My Lord,
I am utterly lost, debilitated,
and in despair!
Will You give me safe and strong

My Lord,
I feel the chill
of the cold mountain wind,
and the scorching breath
of the roasting desert’s dunes.

My Lord,
A mere nod will suffice from You,
to save me,
and show me the light for my goals.
Protect me that I never attempt –
What ill-pleases, You.
Speak to me of reason and patience.


Geeta Chhabra

Geeta Chhabra Comment Form
Form a link. Comment inside the box below. Your views will be published in a coming edition.