All the world prays.

Whenever wherever for whatever.
The prayers ascend through clouds past worlds even stars.
Till they fall.
They fall onto an abandoned side street.
There's an old phone booth there.
Slightly bent over from where a truck backed into it.
The phone is ringing.
These are prayers.
The rings.
Millions...Billions.
Ringing.
Recorded, but...
Not directly answered.
Never in the way we expect.

Amen.