Grace and Peace to you.
The trees, red and golden,
spend their leaves, all of them.
Dear God, I give myself to you.
My identity, my power, my choices are yours.
My awareness, my prayers, my attitude I give to you.
My passions, my energy, my purpose I hand over.
My time, my distractions, my aims I place in your hands.
My fear is yours, my anger, my despair, my pain.
My powerlessness is yours, and my weakness,
all that is not right in me, and even my inability
to pray this prayer. All is yours this day.
The geese on the pond, traveling through,
open the wings of their prayer books
and lay their entire weight
in the palm of the air.
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