I-Prayer

I think a poem should unfold in layers.

I think of you, as I send out these prayers. 

I think I'll walk in the Word now, and later 
I think I'll address our Noster to Pater. 

Bless us, Father. We must have sinned.
We're not quite where we could be. Mend

wounded hearts, and start us furying

forward without wanting, or worrying!

Jasmine's assent here is meant to convey
a smell. You can tell when there's nothing to say
that can stay an aroma. You know many things
are suggested, invested in how Jasmine rings
in your ear as you hear me say Jasmine again,
as Jasmine long has been my prayer. Amen.