Prayer, It Matters Why

Pray or be prey to the devil.

Pray or God will be mad.

Pray so God will take away the pain.

Pray for a new house, a monkey, a puppy, and money.

Prayer was always a necessity,

Always a begging when I was younger.

We had to pray on our knees

With our hands placed together.

We had to be perfect,

Or we'd go to hell.

I asked the Creator one day,

Do you really want us to pray to you?

Don't you get tired

Of us always asking you to fix things,

Give us things, make life real easy?

What do you do all day?

Does anyone ever ask you?

I'm asking you, now.

Really, you do everything?

Yes, I remember reading that you are I am.

What? Every time I say I am, I am praying?

But what happens when I say I am pissed

Or fucked up or screwed?

I am?

Damn!

“Exactly!”

How should I pray, then?

“It doesn't matter how.

It matters why.”

You don't care how I pray?

“Why should I?
I don't need anything.

I am, remember?
I am everything that there is

And, incidentally.

Everything that is not.”

Oh, now you're getting deep.

“You do realize that we are praying

At this very moment.”

We?

“Of course. Prayer is conversation.”

But I wasn't taught to pray that way.

“And now you know.”

If you do everything

Do you cause war, pain, suffering?

“Of course.”

You're scaring me.

“I created everything perfectly.

I created contrasts,

Light and dark.

You created labels that you think are true:

Good and bad,

Yours and mine,

Me and you.

There is only I am

So choose.”

Choose what?

“What follows I am.”

Oh, I get it.

Thanks for the prayer

I am a blessing.

“Exactly!”