Prayer to the Master Weaver

Lord, the world’s gone mad.
It seems impossible
For, even you, to weave
Love out of hate,
Peace out of chaos,
Gladness from sorrow,
Joyfulness from despair,
And peacefulness from unforgiveness.
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Dyslxeic Poet

When I was in elementary school I was diagnosed as being, “slightly dyslexic.” They were a bit confused because I could read, though spelling and math was difficult for me. Letters and numbers liked to go to the wrong places. Words didn’t always behave when I was reading but I’d somehow learned to compensate for that early on. School was very difficult for me and I believed that I was stupid, though my parents and others told me differently. This past September, I wrote this poem about what dyslexia is like for me. I thought that I’d reblog it.

Because it’s a concrete poem the formatting is messed up in the little bit that you see below. Β When you click to view the original post everything is readable. πŸ™‚

Sue's Nook

o u i n
words b n c g
around on pages

View original post 38 more words