[Poem] The Weathered Knees

 

The weathered knees bend, on the worn, wooden floor,

A familiar gesture, practiced long before.

Hands clasped together, eyes softly closed,

A space for reflection, where worries are imposed.

 

Words may be spoken, or simply a sigh,

A plea for direction, beneath the vast sky.

Forgiveness is sought, for mistakes made in haste,

Strength is implored, to weather life's waste.

 

Gratitude blooms, for the gifts we hold dear,

For love and for laughter, that banish all fear.

Silence descends, a listening space,

A connection with something, a divine embrace.

 

From the weathered knees, a prayer takes its flight,

A journey within, to find inner light.

For prayer is a refuge, a sanctuary's hold,

A story unspoken, whispered and bold.