The Companion
March 23, 2012
I am stashed
with lip balm, a comb,
a small mirror, rarely pulled out
I am carried everywhere
for I am weightless
I am made to collect dust so you do not have to
when you kneel
on both hard and yielding surfaces.
My back protects you
from impurities
I create for you a space
A space that is folded, that is carried
so the prayer stays with you
wherever you may be
as long as you are alone.
I am not beautiful
Others like me have been meticulously woven
hung up, rarely used
but I am made to last your journey
to withstand wear and tear
so that I am always here
when you are distracted, anxious
or joyously calm
that is when your embrace is the sweetest.
All things are made to worship Him,
but I was made for worshipping Him.
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5 Comments
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Amazing.
I thought of incorporating the close calls this poor mat has had with my friend’s dog, but that wouldn’t have been so poetic!
Beautiful poem, sister. Do you do any spoken word?
Thank you. No, I rarely write poetry as it is.
Beautiful poem, you’re incredibly talented.