The Prayers of Amalthea’s Horn, Part II

The Prayers of Amalthea’s Horn, Part II

The sin committed, unforgivable,
I thought somehow I was superior,
to gain salvation through activity,
the Gospel good for everyone but me,
that somehow I’d convince through constant prayer.
No effort, out in public, I would spare.
A million words it seems I prayed out loud,
or minimal, in hundred thousands count.
It said don’t be like pagans when you pray.
I, unlike Balaam’s donkey, might have brayed.
In glossolalia, my thoughts would range,
in repetition, words are meaningless,
a mantra spoke with angels’ tongue, expressed.
Engaged in altered states of consciousness.
An endless stream, from out, they poured and poured.
My lips and tongue, with Michael’s words, adorned.
The repetitions, some identified,
I’d listen when some patterns might arise.
To think he hears the words you have to say,
he knows of them before, your lips, away.
No repetitions, vain, that you should use.
The many words just like the Gentiles do.

For meditation, “Maranatha” spoke,
in Aramaic, “Come, Lord Jesus”, note
the other meaning, this: “Our Lord has come,”
By constant practice, my salvation won.
For intervention, there’s no bargaining,
for that dimension, your tongue, loosening,
your foot upon the bottom ladder rung.
The witches’ Sabbath, echoes, whispered spells.
My spirit, up, from in my breast, it swells.
That single word, my mantra I repeat.
Inside my head, distractions to defeat.
My motivation zapped by my fatigue.
My loneliness suborned by my belief.
The rest that I can access in that place.
In spite of that, you go another way.

From off her head that curly-Q was torn.
The bleeding stump where Amalthea’s horn
upon her head until most recently.
When Jupiter had snapped it like a twig.
His god-like strength, an infant, not so big,
still broke it off, and too, he severed veins,
the gushing blood that couldn’t be restrained.
Why did the boy-god make such vicious act?
No more her milk sustained him, meat he lacked.
But in her death, supply was what he found,
a cornucopia, with food, abounds.

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