From the moment my heart, smaller than the head of a match
flared to life my blood pumped thanksgiving to you.
My every waking cry was a shout of praise for breath and each
crawling step on bended knees a worshipful sacrifice of praise
My musical babbling, joyful noise falling upon attentive ears
as my incoherent songs of worship colored the angels wings
as they gathered and whispered, “watch as he prays”
I stumble through a broken “Our Father, Who art in Heaven”.
each faltering word drenched with understanding based of childlike faith,
the forgotten lines pauses for you to answer back
This was when I knew the perfection of dependence
and before the notion of privilege was battered into my skull.
A simpler time when my every exultation was born from my grateful heart
and expressed in every breath that past from my lips
Before I grew to understand poverty and strife and misery
but even now, though my steps are sure and firm on the earth
and my voice has lost the magical innocence of incoherence
and each prayer is an elaborate treatise arranged just so
still within me beats that same heart, now the size of a fist,
a fist hammering down the walls of self reliance and apathy
and remembering what it was to laugh and talk with you in a forgotten
patch of sunlight, thanking you for making the sky blue because
I really liked the color and asking why you made fire hot.
When I realize that in the simplicity of my childhood you cared for me
and in the ignorance of my youth you stilled cared
and now in the confusion of my young adulthood you still care
my flaming fist sized heart swells in song as I give thanks
as I give thanks with a grateful heart.