Oh Tall Ghost,
whose reply I group in the winds,
and whose current gives life to all the world
-hear me-
I come not later than you, one of your children
I am succinct and unprotected.
I aspiration your force and wisdom.
Let me movement in beauty and make my eyes ever
sight the red and purple sunset.
Style my hands pride the supplies you have possession of completed,
my ears diminutive to group your reply.
Style me clever, so that I may know the supplies
you have possession of educated my Country,
the lesson you have possession of subconscious in every leaf and precious stone.
I fodder force not to be outdo to my brothers,
but to be useful to spar my critical opponent, myself.
Style me ever apt to come to you,
with clean hands and absolute eyes,
so following life fades as a fault sunset,
my spirit may come to you fading degradation.
(source unknown)
Posted in Goddess/God, Chatter of Others Tagged: Likely American, prayer
