Little prayers written away on my little screen
So much hope and yearning
Not sure they will be heard
Maybe light coincidence improve
A matter of faith
No intercession,
nor reply.

Themselves a word offering,
raised up to what appears divine.
She prayed for others,
Not for me,
I am still new at this.

If I adore her,
it lets me feel.
The temple floods.
She is tired of being devoted,
and overwhelmed by her devotees.
I came too late
Atheist to herself
Agnostic to me.

I priest offer something
on behalf of the world,
contrite and crying,
forgive us all that is past,
none know what we do.

A slight passion on me
for former sinners.
Little Via Dolorosa
She sets me on,
she walks it often.

Grace I cannot deserve.
As above, so below,
make that loving contact
before it all falls down,
and we return back as before.