The Lord's Prayer

by Rorisang Moerane

My favourite time at the office is lunchtime

I get to read on the balcony outside

Right next to a primary school with loud, furious, little kids

They knock off three hours before we do and

Before they go

They're lined up in front of their classes

Little spidermen and barbies and

They say The Lord's Prayer in a round


The racers: our father

The average ones: our father

The stragglers: our father


The teachers don't stop them

Or ask them to slow down

What is prayer to a child?

To them, the only god that truly exists feeds and clothes them


Hallowed be thy name

Hallowed be thy name

Hallowed be thy name


I hear the youngest ones first for they are the racers

They are the loudest

The most furious

What is more important than the work of the playground? The position of each pebble, each root that marks the end and beginning of their domain?


Thy kingdom come

Thy kingdom come

Thy kingdom come


The average ones sadden me

They drag themselves along as the hand of life, the open noose, begins to close


Thy will be done on earth

Thy will be done on earth

Thy will be done on earth


I learned about the will of God for the first time

When I was eight

And I saw a woman in a mustard dress get hit by a car

She stepped into the road and frame by frame I realized that sometimes

The will of God is to do nothing


Forgive us our trespasses

Forgive us our trespasses

Forgive us our trespasses


The oldest kids are the stragglers

By now they know

Sometimes god won't feed you or clothe you

The playground is a patch of hard, dry soil

And it is the free will of man that delivers him from evil