There are a million ways to pray.
Not one of has anything to do with an oak pew,
A kneeling bench,
Or a robed someone on high.
Nothing special is needed.
The quiet is not a prerequisite.
A seat on a New York subway,
A carnival ride at full tilt.
Or, then again,
The middle of nowhere,
Your authentic voice the only sound at all.
Start with the words I wish.
Or I tried.
Forget dogma, the King James version, the scripted.