a n   a g n o s t i c ' s   p r a y e r

b y    m a r k   m u r p h y


 
When I tell you that I love your Audrey Santo:
the girl, whom, it is said, performs miracles
in her sleep, it is because I know her in my heart
as though she were my own flesh and blood,
 
when I knelt beside her bed in the late morning
all the world stood still, all my previous life
came to me as if in slow motion, acted out
behind the retina as though I had been given
 
the gift of my own memory for the first time;
I was not disturbed nor did I regret the course
my life had taken, I wished nothing then
for myself in that lonely room, but I could not help
 
feeling sorrow for the girl with the unfathomable
dreams, so I said to her, ‘I will pray for you, my Audrey Santo,’
and she said back to me in a voice gentle as prayer,
‘what can I do for you my brother in destiny?’
 
And I was not astounded nor did I find myself
disbelieving the sound of the voice inside my head,
I only wished to take the darkness she had known
these past nineteen years – away from her eyes
 
so she could see the world as I saw it, but then
it came to me more clearly than the winter sun,
perhaps Audrey Santo was blessed in ways
I could never comprehend, perhaps she really was
 
the waking world’s connection with God.

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