A Prayer Poem by Savita Tyagi

A Prayer



This imperfect vessel made of soft clay
Can't hold all the precious blessings
So gingerly upon my psyche you lay.
Why should I crave for what is not mine?
What is mine O Lord! Is only a gift of thine.
Make me strong! Make me hardy.
You have put a brush in my hand
Let my strokes be any thing but tardy.

Tuesday, July 5, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: prayer
COMMENTS OF THE POEM

It should be a prayer that is to come out from the heart of a true human being whose minf has been polished and polished for decades

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Mihaela Pirjol 06 January 2018

An emotional, gentle, and personal prayer; a heart communicating with the heart of God.

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Dr Dillip K Swain 09 December 2017

A great prayer of a poetic soul.. touching one so precisely expressed Thanks for sharing dear mam

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Akhtar Jawad 28 July 2016

A touching prayer, so nicely penned in a wonderful poem.

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Daniel Brick 08 July 2016

What a tender poem! You are addressing the Lord of the Universe and the Creator of all things Visible and Invisible. But there's no theology or special pleading or vain boasting. This is a sweet conversation with God, person-to-person. You lift up your soul in quiet devotion, confident that God's answer will be a whisper in your heart. Religion means relationship and the relationship you present here is love and trust.

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