thinking

[joel]

"...he decided that it might be better to choose his own idol, there being authority for this - or so it seemed to him - in a prayer that he had heard the priest of the city temple intone before the gods:
<center>'Oh Lord, forgive three sins that are due to my human limitations.
Thou are everywhere, but I worhsip thee here:
Thou art without form, but I worship thee in these forms;
Thou needest no praise, yet I offer thee these prayers and salutations.
Lord, forgive three sins that are due to my human limitations.'"</center>
--M M Kaye, The Far Pavillions

in thinking about India and Tsumani songs and monotheistic faith and form...

Forgive me, Love, three sins my limits prove.
O Love ubiquitous, too often set above
as smirk of petty joys, you cry for pains
more often than you likely smile for gain—
forgive mere praises offered from within
my swanky borders. Nameless, formless Love,
of whom humanity most often tells
most honestly in wails, in groans, in swells
of teary laughter, you are wary of
my worded designations— clear my sin
that merely knows you as I entertain
you imaged in my form. And this remains:
you need no praise— and yet I’d love you, Love.
Forgive me, Love, three sins my limits prove.

[mtmynd]

beautifully worded sentiments, Joel, that should not seek forgiveness from even the most wholeness of space but would celebrate your poem with abandoned grace.