We’ve heard your prayer about your child.
You know it will not be answered.
Love is always too much and not
enough. Don’t be afraid.
Your daughter will repeat sixth grade.
Attention deficit disorder is her God.
Do not stare at the gritted teeth
of the Baboon. My opened palms
welcomed the nails. I wrongly thought
freedom was the cutting of my strings,
but this Baboon-God opens and shuts
my mouth. God enters us through
the wounds we cannot feel. His hand
is in a hole between my shoulder blades.
We’re all sock puppets filled with a love
only He can feel. Can we, without Him,
love who we love?
That should be our prayer. Yet my prayer is,
“Our Father that art in heaven, hollow be thy name.
We forgive your trespasses if you forgive ours.”
Your girl won’t leave home or find work.
Can you hug this child that is less than ordinary,
yet loves you, because she must love somebody?
