I came up with brisk to pray*
In a church open in the day
I thought and believed it was silent*
As the church marked as a place For fervent
Plea. God must be alone and recluse*
I thought, just to hear someone talking to Him in profuse
She was old and looked shabby,
I didnt want to mind and wanted to lobby
Her to stop disturbing the peace
God struck and i stood for a moment in heart pace.
I realised i didnt want her to stop the pour
And rather i felt her words like rain pour.
For another moment, her words cleansed my mind
She poured out to God the tears her heart bind.
It was only but a prayer of an old one,
An old and a lonely one
Cast in the shadow of abandonment
By those cared for with all concernment.
"Dear God of the poor,
Hear the cry of the old and poor
The world seems so uncanny and lost
Even my old little ones are still lost.
They have forgotten those arms that carlessed
Them, just because time has passed and they have digressed.
How much love I gave,
And how much iindifference I receive.
The world must have forgotten we exist,
Old and unloved we are left to decease.
Touch their hearts this time around,
So that they can in their obstinecy turn round.
I know am not the only one like this,
There are other forgotten ones like me, thus
I pray You to remember Your words of comfort,
That the old will reap the fruit of their effort.
We are hungry, thirsty, naked and in need,
Send us helpers to relief our phlight in deed."
I saw her tears, rolling from those old eyes.
I stood for a moment on the isle
And forgot what I wanted to ask for in prayer.
Rather I asked God to make those words my prayer
I thought of someone, my mother!
I don't want her to say thesame prayer or myself i will murder.
Oh these old fellows of ours are sick,
Poor, hungry and afflicted. They need us to seek
For their well being and happiness.
Let us make their last days memorable
So that we may appear in their sight favourable.
They need us, let us then help,
So that in out own time we will see help.
Oh God, if they don't want to give a hand,
Help me to lay my efforts with hand
So that when i grow old, karma will favour me
And i will be a happy me.
(Written originally by me for Lumen Fidei magazine®2014)
