I Do Not Pray

I do not Pray

Gorse blossoming in snow Image: healingherbs.co.uk

Gorse blossoming in snow
Image: healingherbs.co.uk

I do not pray to increment my days
Nor plead to ease my modest situation,
I care not for a life of lavish ways
Nor seek the power to rule over a nation.
Though least among the blooms the gorse revive
To flower midst the winter snow; yet I,
Who bear no bloom and in my seed must thrive,
But struggle forth and in one season die.
To what then might this mortal weed aspire?
Made less than gorse—ambition is but vain,
But ah, mortality, my passion’s fire!
You are my joy, though you shall be my bane;
For gorse is neither virtuous nor trite,
Save framed by mortal eyes in passion’s light.

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4 thoughts on “I Do Not Pray

  1. I see why you’re proud of this one. It’s beautifully written and trips off the tongue as well as being very thought provoking. This idea of mortality being the source of passion is not something I’d considered before so you’ve certainly got my cogs whirring…

      • I wrote my first poem when I was 10. It was quite a surreal piece, in which I encountered my adult self looking back at me from afar along a lonely road. I have no idea what inspired me to write it, but I remember being satisfied when my father read it and refused to believe that I had written it myself—Poetry wasn’t exactly fashionable among the working-classes in Liverpool where I grew up.

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