
Prayer peeks
her eyes toward the sun,
head tilts sideways
inhales what is —
No more, no less
She is love
draped with angst.
A myriad of concerns
weaves through her —
a plead
a wish
a hope
Prayer is presence
to what is here, now
She is an infant held
in the bosom of a new mother —
an eye gaze
a reflective pause
a rock to and fro
Prayer is expression
of all that bears like lead
She barrels in as —
a swashbuckling pirate
a shoulder shaking widow
a mud puddle splash
She makes no apology for how she arrives.
She is fully herself —
Take her or leave her.
She is wide strokes of black grief,
slow tear dripping blue.
She is marks of dazzling light,
dabs of mossy damp earth.
Even as I glimpse her, still
Prayer eludes me.
I can’t catch or contain her.
When I speak aloud,
my words make less of her —
for she is rugged glory.
She cannot be captured
with the spoken tongue.
Since she can’t be caught, is she real?
Maybe she is only a theory
or polite gossip to pass the time?
She slides through my grasp and
becomes a torch bearing wayfarer.
This flickering gleam
forms me as I follow her.
As I pray —
I gain more clarity
of what makes my heart sing.
I sense connection with
ancestors, spirit, friends.
As others arrive in my consciousness,
I breathe their name,
paint some dots,
hold them in light and love,
send my smile to them.
I don’t receive a lightning bolt
after communing with Prayer,
but I do sense peace,
an otherness with her guiding me.
By now, I know
Prayer is connected to the Great Beyond.
When she is near,
birds chirp their song in response —
an ode of joy,
a poem of claim,
a dance of tweets and twitters
They seem to echo her call,
“We are here,
we witness you.”
I commit to seek Prayer.
I place my spectacles of wholeness
on my eyes and hunt
for her each day.
I collect as I go and press
the people, the needs, the concerns
into the soft earth
humming a low tune.
In a minute,
each prayer grows wings
and flies toward the moon
released into the dark night.
I trust in the story of grace —
the mythic tale of a
quiet rise of revolutionary love.
I trust in the goodness of God.
and, yes,
I trust in Prayer.
Let us shower the world with our prayers as we walk our days.