The Prodigal

Prodigal of prayer am I,

Prodigal of tear,

But I have used God sparingly -

I think He does not hear.

Stars to wish on flicker false,

And I know stars will wear;

But if I doubt and if I weep,

Stars will never care.

I have let my prayers sift down

Through a starry sieve:

Will God gather up the dust

If I believe?