Prayer on the Train

Lord Jesus Christ
if only I could pray to you
as once I did 
 - a last listening one in the loneliness -
but now you are gone...
Sponged out of existence by the modern world.

To whom did I pray?

To whom do I speak now?

Am I simply giving the little boy of my soul a voice?
Or do I entertain a warm memory of what I once thought was... 
Wishing for a comfort I may not have.

The little boy and the lonely one inside are surely crying out to you
but there is more than warm memory
pretence
and longing for a past of innocence

for the cry from my deep
flows with the reality of what is
and though you are not the Jesus of Palestine
or the Lord Christ...