I might try praying… again…

Let’s Try it Again

Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord that’s what I’ll be able to do,
sleep, because that would probably do wonders
for my soul, my health, my marriage even,
I hope; and a kept soul sounds nice,
so I’ll have one of those too,
they’re so slippery, souls that is, and
hard to keep track of or even imagine,
thus (that sounds like a ‘soul’ kind of word,
doesn’t it, ‘thus’), if the good Lord
would keep mine, I’m guessing that
I’d prefer that to having to track the
untrackableness of said soul;
now what comes next about mortality while
asleep, seems heavy-handed
don’t you think, and I wonder if any
child can appreciate the funereal muse
as they kneel bedside
dressed in warm pajamas, hair
still wet from a bath and bubbles
lingering in their ears
reciting the plea that a God who is good
would stoop to take their soul,
but as vague as that sounds,
having your soul taken seems the
best option at this point, so tonight
I might take a bubble bath
and kneel bedside like a child and
try praying again because
I’m concerned with my soul
and it would be nice to sleep well too.

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