Writing and Prayer: What if we used our craft to connect with our spiritual source?

The result would be a fierce, consoling honesty, I think…

Here’s Donald Hall’s prayer…

A Grace
by Donald Hall

God, I know nothing, my sense is all nonsense,
And fear of You begins intelligence:
Does it end there? For sexual love, for food,
For books and birch trees I claim gratitude,
But when I grieve over the unripe dead
My grief festers, corrupted into dread,
And I know nothing. Give us our daily bread.

“A Grace” by Donald Hall, from Old & New Poems. © Ticknor & Fields, 1990.

What would you write?

 

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