Here’s a prayer for the corners of my mind
littered with unfinished business—
hopes squashed decades ago,
orphan words that never had a listening ear,
yearnings unhinged, glances missed,
torn maps of roads not taken.
In lonely moments, if you listen closely,
you can hear regret gnawing away there
sharpening its teeth on yesterday’s sorrows.
I need your presence like a woman cleaning in May,
opening windows, pulling down dusty drapes,
furniture dragged out onto the lawn.
Every surface open and revealed,
scoured by soap and spring winds.
Create in me clean corners, God,
ordered, uncluttered, functional.
A mind clarified, set to rights
making way for the Spirit
who after a long day’s work,
brushes back her hair from her forehead,
lets out a deep breath, and smiles.