Lord, you have seen our trouble and our sorrow.
You have heard the prayer of the weak, Lord,
and you will strengthen their hearts.
In the cool of evening,
when the light has become a gravel of stars
across the deep-blue road of night,
and Venus rolls over the horizon
like a bright pebble
into dark water,
and our mind's havoc goes under
our long anguish,
we begin to roll the utterances
of our prayers
into bright blues and indigos,
blood-reds, emeralds and golds
like rough stones
we long polish and smooth
with our weary and battered hearts;
the vast well
of Your sacred heart.
Inspired by Nancy Shuman's Post: Revisiting 5 Smooth Stones