Prayers in Autumn

I repeat the words again
They are said with reverence
With eyes closed, hands folded
They are woven with hope
Each time softly spoken

Yet, the only change
Is the color on the leaves
Does He sense the tone
from which I speak?
Does He hear my pleas?

Understanding the
Importance of timing
Takes time in itself

The new season brings
Warmth with its colors
And new enticing flavors
While hope becomes hazy
And faith begins to waver

Lauren Scott 2017

I tried something new this time, so below is the audio link:




It is what it is –
or so we say,
but who really knows
what it is today?
Where does it live?
What does it think?
Does it have eyes that blink?
Would I miss it
floating in mid air
like an atom with flare
or does it sit on concrete
in cold weather and heat?
What a thing to ponder,
This it we claim to know
Does it stretch to the sky
or lie very low?
Does it speak words, I ask,
with a face to see
or does it convey mystery
through a dark colored mask?
How perplexing,
digging up truth
about this infamous it
Does anyone have a clue?
Is there something we
can do?
If not,
Then I bid you
a friendly

© LScott 2012


Friday fun! 🙂