Here is my little thought:
my tiny contribution
to the world's recovery.
Here is my heart's small prayer,
launched like a paper ship
on a dark, uncomprehending sea.
Only You know, O Lord,
and only You, its weight
and size and flexibility—
my grain of sand,
the numbered hair,
the water's drop in ocean's certainty.
I dare not contemplate
its microscopic touch
on earth's immensity.
But here it is—
I can no more hold it back
than cease to breathe—
the sweet insistent claim
that good must win.
For good was first
and needs not to begin.
It's now, and here, and there,
in blessing constancy.
My pinprick prayer is power,
an element of Love's supremacy.
In faith I send it forth
and trust its worth
to Him who counts on me.
