I pray while I write
Or maybe writing is a prayer.
I have hope for these words
That they will make a difference
I pray they will move a nation
Move people, move hearts, move mountains
Language my lever, feelings my fulcrum.
Even when I am drowning in ink
When everything I love is covered
With black splotches and smears
I pray with my words
A prayer for change.
When I want to stop
When my hand cramps
My head feels fogged
And out of words.
I think of my people
And the culture that stands
Between them and who they are.
Ghosts on my shoulder
Adding weight to my prayers
Cheering me on, cheering me on
To walk naked through
A field of critics.
Everything that I am
Ashamed of
Afraid of
Proud of
Laid out in my personal story.
Except.
It isn’t personal any more.
All of it is out there
Paid for with
Inkstains and
Bleary eyes and
A tired mind.
This story belongs now
To the people
And this is why I pray.
I pray while I write
So my private story
Will become something to inspire
Sweating my heart
Into the words.
Bleeding
Into the ink.
Move I whisper over
The still infantile words.
Move the world
With the power I am giving you.
Go forth little one.
Make change in all you do.
And this is how I pray.
“This story belongs now
To the people
And this is why I pray.”
There’s something about this poem that brings to mind Richard Blanco’s inaugural poem
http://www.latimes.com/news/politics/la-pn-inauguration-2013-richard-blanco-poem-20130121,0,5626688.story
Intentional?
What happens if your last line also is written: “And this is HOW I pray” ?
That was not at all intentional, I’d never heard the poem before, actually. I like the suggestion for the last line, thank you.