Prayers for those in silence

Cagn Cochrane

The vast majority of my writing is hopeful, almost annoyingly so. In these COVID months I have found myself more tuned to the varieties of lament that are so appropriate. So many lost and delayed journeys, so much interrupted and lost. Even without the melting of Greenland, humiliation of lost wars despite trillions of dollars and countless thousands of lives. Viral death and weirding of democracy. Lament comes a bit easier these days, even for me. Makes me aware of so many who live in that shadow for private grief and struggles known only by a few. The book is about prayers for a newer new awakening, but not born of happy talk. You can buy the book on Amazon here.

Weeping God of sorrows,
Come tenderly to those who know sadness in these days,
The aching grey hours before dawn, when you wept for the city. And the heart-bound vacancy at noon.
The loneliness of overheard laughter,
The touch observed, meant for someone else.

Words ring false as tin, Color off in light aslant. How can I keep on singing In this strange land?

Hold me now and gather me close.
Even now my heart beats.
Even now, my blood moves in my veins.
Even now, my muscles ripple for weight to lift and work to do. Even now, draw me toward those even more alone.

God of sorrow, testify that pain is life unfinished yet,
That unresolved sadness may yet focus on what is not yet done, witness to what might be birth.
Come my father, mother, sister, brother, friend.
Come close now.

This book is available on, the home of Stakeholder Press. And, of course, on Amazon here. If you buy on Amazon, be sure to leave a decent review. It really helps. All profits from the book go to Stakeholder Health, to support this most amazing web of hopeful change-makers. They’re the answer to prayers already prayed.