We pray to slow the rushing mind,
To hear a truth we’re too loud to find.
In folded hands, our fears unspool,
The heart relearns a gentler rule.
We pray when words run out of breath,
When hope feels thin, when life meets death.
A whispered plea, a broken song,
Reminds us where we still belong.
We pray to thank, not only ask,
To see the gift in every task.
In gratitude, our vision clears,
The sacred shines through ordinary years.
We pray to bend, not to be small,
But to rise when we choose to fall.
For strength is born when pride departs,
And courage grows in humbled hearts.
We pray because we’re not alone,
Though roads are dark and seeds are sown.
Each rhythmic breath, each quiet plea,
Is faith in motion—hope set free.
MARYANN BOSAH 