(A Poem of CS Lewis on Prayer, published in Letters to Malcolm)
Master, they say that when I seem
To be in speech with You,
Since you make no replies, it's all a dream
- One talker aping two.
They are half right, but not as they
Imagine; rather, I
Seek in myself the things I meant to say,
And lo! the wells are dry.
Then, seeing me empty, you forsake
The Listener's role, and through
My dead lips breathe and into utterance wake
The thoughts I never knew.
And thus You neither need reply
Nor can; thus, while we seem
Two talking, thou are One forever, and I
No dreamer, but Thy dream.
Master, they say that when I seem
To be in speech with You,
Since you make no replies, it's all a dream
- One talker aping two.
They are half right, but not as they
Imagine; rather, I
Seek in myself the things I meant to say,
And lo! the wells are dry.
Then, seeing me empty, you forsake
The Listener's role, and through
My dead lips breathe and into utterance wake
The thoughts I never knew.
And thus You neither need reply
Nor can; thus, while we seem
Two talking, thou are One forever, and I
No dreamer, but Thy dream.
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