Longevity

Give me many years on earth—

Yeah, that's my plea.
Give me time to grow and learn

And hear and see.

Just a hundred years or so—

Yeah, that'll do!

I won't press the matter, though;

It's up to You.

Is it not a wondrous plan,

Longevity?

You could mull it over and

Get back to me.

'Cause I'd like to be the man

I promised I would be.

I think I will; I think I can,

But You've gotta bless me!

I'm hoping You'll consider my wise point of view,

And grant me everything that I now ask of You:

Give me many years on earth—

Yeah, that's my plea.
Give me time to grow and learn

And hear and see.

Just five hundred years or so—

Yeah, that'll do!

I won't press the matter, though;

It's up to You.

Is it not a wondrous plan,

Longevity?

You could mull it over and

Get back to me.

'Cause I've yet to visit Rome;

I've never been to Greece!

No, no, no, don't call me home

Before I am at peace

With facing who I am behind this charming mask.

I need more time—a lot more time—and so I'll ask:

Give me many years on earth—

Yeah, that's my plea.
Give me time to grow and learn

And hear and see.

Just a thousand years or so—

Yeah, that'll do!

I won't press the matter, though;

It's up to You.

Is it not a wondrous plan,

Longevity?

You could mull it over and

Get back to me.

Or perhaps two thousand years, retrospectively?

A face-to-face to face encounter—yeah, just you and me!

In Nazareth or by the Sea of Galilee?

I've read about it, pondered it, but do I see...

That I'll never change unless

I realize

I am not what I possess,

What I devise,

Or demand in prayerful mode—

I've been unjust!

All my best-laid plans erode;

They turn to dust.

So here I am now, yielding my audacious plea;

Oh Father, not my will; Your will be done in me.

© 2023 David Acosta