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My prayer is not the whimpering of a beggar

My prayer is not a confession of love.

Nor is it a petty reckoning

Give me and I shall give you.

My prayer is a soldier to his general:

This is what I did today,

this is how I fought the battle

this is how I plan to fight on the morrow

My God and I are horsemen

galloping in the burning sun

in the drizzling rain.

Pale, starving, but unsubdued,

we ride

We.ride

We ride

and converse, and talk, and laugh

Leader! I cry.

He turns his face toward me,

and I shudder

to confront him.

Our love for each other. rough and ready,

we sit at the same table,

Awe drink the same wine

in this low tavern of life.

In this low

Tavern

Of life