by Dennis Williams

Lord, thank you for the gift of life,
and may my life be fully devoted to You. 
Let my moments and my days be totally dedicated to Your praise.
And at death, may I ascend to Heaven.
May my vineyard be laid in good seasons and my crops be bounteous, 
let the crops help me in my dedication to the poor.
Let the overgrown shrubs and twigs be plucked out and create space for a better purpose.  
 If I must discard, guide my hands in the right direction, 
let me be quick to heal the wounds created, 
dear Lord.
Let me not be eager to break down, 
considering all the effort it took to build up, 
let it not be my purpose to tear down what others have built up, 
but always eager to build up instead. 
To build up and encourage those that labor in our stead, 
to honor their memory, be they alive or dead.
Lord, comfort me in my time of sorrow,
let not my tears shed in vain, 
quicken my heart and convert my sorrows to joy,
let laughter heal this broken heart. 
Be my comforter in the time of grief,
let my mourning period be short, 
and the reasons for sorrow be hastily driven away, 
And their memories quickly fade.
Let my heart be glad and my sorrow burst out in songs and dancing.
Help me, Lord, to pick my friend, 
scattered my enemies, 
Lord, send them asunder,
and when it is time to choose, 
let the decision be wise.
Let me embrace and congratulate the good things of life 
and all those that dedicate their lives to doing good, helping the poor, and serving the Lord.
Let me shun all those stock their pile against me, 
and refuse to extend them an outstretched arm.
Let me be slow to receive and quick to give, 
Being cognizant that it is always better to give than to receive.
Let me be willing to give to the poor, 
show my hand when all else declines,
let my heart be always willing to share, 
and let me not cast away those who gather at my gate with an outstretched arm.
Help me to seek forgiveness if I fail to obey, 
and mend if I transgress.
Lord, let me be quiet, 
quick to listen and slow to speak, 
let not my speech cause me pain, 
And may I convert all the good I hear to Thy glory.
And in the end, 
Lord, may I find love and peace even if all around me there is hate and war. 

Dennis Williams is an emerging poet-writer from Sandy Hill, St. Catherine, Jamaica. His writings have been published in Agape Review and the American Diversity Report.