Grant me nearness to you. I am so far and my day so dull. I greet a gray dawn.
Make me attentive to my tasks, the ones you have set me. Let each draw me into your grip, Lord.
I will find you, sweet friend, in the midst of this labor.
You call me to labor; let me not drift and ensnare myself.
Today, Lord, let me walk with your purpose.
Storms blow through my mind. My thoughts arrive with punch and drama, cloudbursts. Lord, I know they will blow over.
In the grip of this devilish trance, grant me breath and calm. Let me wait it out.
Shall I devote my life to a painstaking declaration of gratitude, dear Lord?
Let me fashion my art from the material of each moment.
Before dawn, the moon glows at me as I rise and make my rounds. Quiet step by quiet step, the shining light is so gentle. My way is lit, yet I feel no warmth.
At noon my skin tingles with warmth and and my eyes squint. Where is my moon now? I am exposed like a bug on a plate.
I seek the light in the darkness; I search for shade when in the light. Let me accept this day on its own terms, dear Lord.
Let me welcome all things.
Sever my attachment to this world, the things in it, my place here, my body, yea, even my thoughts. All these things are bits of fiction. Let them float through me and disappear as mist.
Let me greet new pleasure and new pain equally. Open my eyes that I may see how the river of the world flows past.
You are speaking to me through the day, yet when do I listen? It is only in the quiet morning that I turn to you.
If you visit at dawn then surely you must be equally present at noon, in the heat of labor and battle. This is when I need your voice, yet I wait to listen.
Lord, open my eyes to your constant presence.
My world is filled with judges. The dawn comes and I fear their rulings: that I will be not enough, found wanting.
Lord, let me see these figures for the misty spirits that they are. Dark fantasies I contrive simply to quicken my own heart and knot my stomach.
Walk with me, hold my hand, place your arm around my shoulders. Make me, your child, understand how safe I am.
I intend to take such care and act with such purpose. Yet the morning arrives and it all dissipates like mist. Where has my resolve gone? And where, Lord, my plans for achievement?
Here, in the morning, I will not dwell on the evening, for it will take care of itself.
Make my day simple, Lord. Let me take each small step without overmuch thought. Let me do what is before me.
What shall I pray? How should I act? Where should I go?
I am the bewildered one, lacking all sense of direction. I know only how fragile I feel in the face of the dawn.
Grant me knowledge of your will for me, and the power to carry it out, dear Lord.