Dear Reader,
I find the division between poetry and prayer to be arbitrary at best. Both come from the same place, and each contains within them the unspoken longings of the human heart. But what happens when prayers feel like platitudes and poetry nothing more than an indulgence? Is there still a place for prayer? Does poetry still matter? These are some of the questions explored in my forthcoming book, Skipping Stones. Below I’ve included the opening poem in the collection, an honest reflection on the place of prayer in the face of “unnatural loss.”
