[When struck by a storm of insomnia, I often practice what might be called breath controlled prayer or silent using certain songs, poems or standard prayers - anyway, the night before last this came into my mind and I fell asleep. I think it can be set to music]
Our father in the heavens!
We are so ashamed!
Our will's been done
and your kingdom's trashed
on earth as in the sea and skies above.
Soon, there will be no love,
let alone daily bread.
Help our children to forgive us
as we forgive one another.
Protect this land in the evil days to come
and lead us to where we make war no more.
You are the kingdom, the power and the glory
- where else to make amends?
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