(starts with bowing down)
Dear Father, I am sixty six years old.
So now, in one more year I can retire.
Thus by most counts, I wouldn’t be too bold
to think that I’m a grown up. I’m a sire.
I’ve sired 6 living offspring on this Earth.
And have begun to learn to love from you.
But in that sense, I've hardly grown since birth.
And “Quite Mature” ’s a title I'd eschew.
Because I'm learning how to tell the truth.
And hearing my own self-talk now I know
what you have always known - you don’t need proof!
Compared to your age, I'm still foetal. So
this makes sense of what Jesus said about
the reign of God belonging only to
those who are little children. None are louts
or adolescents, adults with the view
of centuries, millenia or such.
I have to start my growth by learning truth
in inmost parts, in spirit*, heart’s own hutch
for living treasure, inside my tent “roof”.
So as a little child I call you now:
My Abba, Daddy, truest one who knows:
what ever’s worth the knowing or somehow,
whoever will be loving, where love grows
within them as a plant grows in the soil.
The seed of God’s been planted in this soul*
and as it grows the ground is like to boil,
& give birth then, a crop that makes more whole.