Jumbled Prayers

I do not understand the prayers of jumbled letters
I throw in the direction of whoever will listen.

I pray them anyway knowing that in the praying
some ways perish and new ways appear in the along.

I pray them for the possible, rare arrival of some peace,
my heart communing with the stillness of a morning.

I pray them to be less troubled by the persistent roar
of the ungodly seeking to destroy the change of mystery.

I pray them to rebuke my anger before it moves 
and wreaks destruction on the loves I love.

I pray them tumbling from my lips to remind myself:
I am not alone yearning for righteousness.

I pray them to negotiate with myself hoping 
for a lessening of my participation in tyranny.

I pray them not to be humble or prideful but simply
to sort the jumble and get on with my life.

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