If by my pray’r alone I could well worship thee,
In bed, bath, and bier I’d lift my voice and be
Content. But oh — as difficult as ’twas to breathe
When Thou lay vertically upon the cross — so ’tis
For me to pray whilst I in placid postures plea.
Lord, turn my knees
and elbows
upon their
ends,
That
through my
prostrate state
I may best imitate
The infinite limit to which my life upon Thee depends.


Angela Sun ’10

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