A Poem: Wake Me, Oh I Pray

She awakened suddenly to eternity with the righteous desire to awaken us, too.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Wake me, oh I pray.

Wake me new this very day.

True Self within me hid from sight;

My Self no more than slept last night.

I would the wakened dreamer find,

With naught yet still to me remind

Of past days journeyed in the night.

I yearn. I long, yet stumble on in turmoil and despair.

I would a sacred vessel be,

Your Spirit to enfold,

To quench their thirsts I find in me,

Your other children lost and cold.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The wakened dreamer found,

Is bathing Self in light.

The brilliance of Her day

Has suffocated night.

The drifting, lifting soar

Has traversed doors thought tight.

Come back fair maid!

Your promise heed!

To wake us, if you could!

We too perceive our need!

Come wake us, if you would.

~ ~ ~~ ~ ~

A mirror stood before Her face.

She saw it with a grin.

Then waves us on.

So, quickly gone,

She bids us to come in.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Poet's Note:

There is an extraordinary story behind this two-parts poem, and I want you to know of it.

I will try to find the photo I took one day in a memorial garden park in Falls Church, Virginia where I had gone the afternoon of that january day to meditate and pray. I want to put the photo with this poem, but you can visualize what I saw.

The park there was blest with statuary by a noted Scandinavian sculptor. Some of his sculptures stood raised just above a fountain pool and represented his life-sized figures of real people, and what he felt it must have been for them to awaken suddenly to eternity.

One of those figures was of a young woman who had died in a traffic accident (in Paris, as I recall.) Her beautiful statue appeared to me to be an almost pleading of humble joy in which she was reaching to something more than herself.

Coupled with this impression was my realization that, because the fountains had run during the cold night before, the warmth of that day's sun had melted only the ice on the south side of her statue . Her other side was still coated in ice.

I left the park and hurried to my home nearby for my camera, returned and captured on film what I had just seen. I knew I would one day soon write a poem of this "person" only partially thawed to God's love, for (to me) she was like me and like so many others.

When I did write the poem you see above, I wrote only that first part. I was satisfied that I had captured those earlier thoughts in my poem.

Within a week or two after completing the poem, I was sitting in an empty classroom at Fairfax High School during my "break period" while teaching a day as a substitute teacher. I was reading a book on comparative religions. A voice as clear in my mind, as it would have been had another person entered the room and spoken to me, said, "I want you to write a poem."

I immediately replied, albeit silently, "I will, but what would you have me write?"

The reply was "Don't worry about that. Just pick up your pen and start writing."

I was dumbfounded, but did as I had been told, and after writing only the few words, given one after the other to my consciousness...."The..wakened...dreamer...found...is ...bathing...self...in...light...The ...brilliance...of...her...day...has...suffocated...night". I realized to my astonishment that I was being given the continuation of the poem I thought I had already finished!

The words continued to flow, and in a very few minutes, with tears in my eyes (and having just corrected the poem to capitalize references to this perfected being) I sought out the head of the faculty whose subject I was teaching, and recounted this extraordinary story. I told her that "Poems are just not written line after line in that short a time with so few changes!"

To this day I have no doubt that going to that park for that purpose, and seeing that statue at that time of that day, and recognizing the symbolism in its half-thawed condition, led ultimately to a poem which can have meaning to others seeking to know better their relationship to God..

To me, the key to her coming to that perceived perfection was that she wanted to be more perfect, not for herself alone, but for what she unselfishly could do for others.

"The drifting, lifting soar" that "traversed doors thought tight"? To me, that represents the times we tell ourselves: "I can't!" "It's impossible!" "No way!" For, with God nothing is impossible!

The other lesson I have drawn from the poem is this: we cannot lead others to their perfection; we can only encourage and draw them, based on their own desire, to see the true reflection of their own true selves, and through that vision to come into their own divinely intended relationship with God.


© This work is licensed under a Creative Comments Attribution-No Derivs 3.0 United States License

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Comments 9 comments

desertlab profile image

desertlab 5 years ago

Praying will always lead us nearer to God. This is a good spiritual reminder..


Lola1929 profile image

Lola1929 5 years ago from Oregon

What a beautiful poem! I started reading it on the 'Home' page and KNEW I had to see where it was going. A wonderful job. Thanks for such a blessed portrait.

Love from Lola


Perspycacious profile image

Perspycacious 5 years ago from Today's America and The World Beyond Author

I could recall this from memory. That in itself is unusual for my poems, for there are few of even shorter length that I can recall as I did this one today. I have two shorter ones I will add here. The first is a prayer I say each time I fly commercialy: "Dear Lord, be with us who fly; be with others in the sky; be with us, if we should die; be with those left to answer why."

This next was an answer I received while sincerely wondering what work God would have me do: "The branches: no matter large or small; from which do the seeds that grow fall." Neither needs much explanation.


Denise Handlon profile image

Denise Handlon 5 years ago from North Carolina

This truly is an extraordinary story, P. I have no doubts about the method of the muse or the clarity of the voice-they have appeared to me in such a manner as this.

I had chills reading about your adventure in the cemetary, and the prompting that guided you to grab your camera. And, before I read '...with tears in my eyes' my own eyes teared up at the awe of this magnificent world beyond.

In my own spiritual path, the recognition of all that you have written within this poem is part of the practice; to be out of touch with our souls and cold from the shadows that keep us separated, it is with tearful gratitude when we do acknowledge the force behind the Truth of who we are, and form that relationship.

You have channeled a most useful and beautiful poem that is sure to touch the hearts and souls of all who are open to receiving this message.

I've sent it off to share with my FB and group of followers.


sweethearts2 profile image

sweethearts2 5 years ago from Northwest Indiana

And, you have awakened us. God's blessings. Amen.


Perspycacious profile image

Perspycacious 5 years ago from Today's America and The World Beyond Author

Have any of us ever awakened to the full potential of God's "spark of divinity" given to each of us that we might fan it into a light for the world? First we awaken, but what we do after that awakening determines our legacy.


sweethearts2 profile image

sweethearts2 5 years ago from Northwest Indiana

The following is taken from God-Centered Resources from the Ministry of John Piper. (referenced desiringGod.org)

"So we want to make God's glory shine. We want to make it visible. "Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father who is in heaven" (Matthew 5:16). So the goal of my life should be to so live that when people know me well enough, they would say, "God is glorious!" Not "John is glorious," but "God is glorious!" (Which is probably why God lets us sin as much as he does. But that's another question."

Which led me to ask 'What's Your Glory?'

I am in a constant search for the answer to that question. A new day brings with it a new answer.


April Reynolds profile image

April Reynolds 5 years ago from Arizona

This is a beautiful poem and a beautiful story Mr. P. I myself feel as if I am in the beginning stages of an awakening. It is an exciting and scary time. What will I do with that awakening? That is a question that touches my soul. Do I stay safe and do nothing, hide what I am becomming, or step out in faith? It is tempting to remain in safety not risking failure, but my sense of adventure pushes me on. I must obey or I will forever wonder what might have been.


Perspycacious profile image

Perspycacious 5 years ago from Today's America and The World Beyond Author

If you "play it safe" (note the first word) eventually someone with authority will tell you what you could have been!

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