Sometimes a prayer
arrives like a stock phrase—
like well-worn beads of syllables
others have strung into smooth
and beautiful strands.
But the prayers that have saved me
are the ones that arrive like burrs.
They hurt a little, hook into my skin,
such stubborn, dogged prayers.
They make me a living agent
of spreading their seeds.
And with every move I make,
they don’t let me forget
they are here.
Posts Tagged ‘prayer’
Sometimes a Prayer
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beads, burr, prayer on October 9, 2025| 2 Comments »
Involuntary
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged animal, body, delight, humanness, prayer, sound on August 18, 2025| 6 Comments »
I love the small sounds of pleasure
people make when taking the first
sip of coffee, or when sitting at last
after standing for hours. That small
hum of delight that escapes the lips
when someone presses a thumb
into the arch of our foot and makes
small circles on the sole. That sigh
that flies out when we step into shade
on a relentlessly sunny day. Bless these
moments when the mind can’t outbrain
the small animal living inside us, when
our feral self slips through the cage
of decorum and groans or purrs
or moans or gasps and reminds us
beneath all our fancy syntax and
pretty words, we’re creatures,
and the body is so much more
than a carrier for the intellect.
Every roar and crow, hiss and howl,
murmur and whimper and trill
is a primitive prayer, an involuntary
thank you for being granted
a body that can slip into warm and
soapy water, that can press its lips
to another’s soft lips, that can inhale
the perfume of rain after months of drought,
that can curl into the warmth of another
and through scent and touch know
it is safe, it is loved, it is home.
The Chosen
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged choosing, chosen, connection, fruit, grocery store, melon, prayer on August 2, 2025| 3 Comments »
You hear how this one is dull, she said,
as she knocked on the melon.
I rapped the green skin and nodded.
Now, she said, try this one.
I knocked and heard the brightness.
Vibrant, she said. Vibrant, I agreed.
She picked it up and handed the melon
to me. This one, she said. Choose this one.
Tonight, I imagine some great hand
coming to knock on my chest, rapping
just above my heart, testing me
to see if I am one worth choosing.
I’m surprised by the prayer that arrives.
Choose us all, please, choose us all.
Right in the Middle of the Day
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged fawn, opening, prayer on July 17, 2025| 8 Comments »
There, beside the willows,
two white-spotted fawns
clumsily stepped through
tall summer grass,
and what rose in me
then was such intimate
prayer—not the kind
where I praise or make
requests, but the kind
where my whole being
becomes a deep green field,
wide enough anything
can enter, not only
the fawns but the mountain lion,
not only the willows
but the ones I call weeds,
and all that is asked of me
is that I notice what it’s like
to be, even for a moment,
that open.
How I’ve Started to Pray
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged connection, god, prayer on April 3, 2025| 4 Comments »
And if god is in everything—in the bend of the river
and the apricot tree, the song of the blackbird
and the awkward smile of the little ballerina
in purple who wandered out tonight onto the stage
to join a dance recital already in progress—
a dance class that wasn’t even hers— yes, if god
is in everything, and I believe god is—
in the dishrag, in the man who throws
bottles at the people marching for peace,
even in this angriest red sliver of me,
if god is in everything then maybe that is why
I have started to want to pray to everything—
or maybe more truly, to pray with everything—
the wave, the blossom, the awkward smile,
the dirty cotton, the broken glass, the rising ache,
the wonder that opens in me when I trust
there was never even a half of a moment when we all
did not deeply, fully, wholly belong to each other.
What I Know of Love When Times Are Dark
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged candle, dark times, love, prayer on April 2, 2025| 8 Comments »
And if you can’t find a candle,
then light the wick of your wonder.
And if you can’t find your wonder,
then now might be a good time
to pray. And if you don’t
know how to pray,
then perhaps you are doing it right.
What do I know of prayer?
Only that every prayer that has saved me
is a prayer that has found me
instead of the other way round—
a prayer that comes through me,
as if I am nothing more
than flesh in service to a prayer.
And if there is a candle, then light it.
And if there is a candle, ask it
to be your teacher. And if there is
a candle, notice how far its light
can reach. See if you, too, can touch
the world as generously as a candle,
just that far, holding back not even
the tiniest measure of love.
How
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, prayer, resistance on January 22, 2025| 17 Comments »
A little context: if you have ever been in a class with me, you likely know I often joke (except I’m not joking) that EVERYTHING has something to teach us … except ticks. So. In these days when I find myself faced with things I really really do not want to turn toward, I have finally done what I swore I would never do. I wrote a poem about ticks. I consider this practice.
*
I pray to keep falling in love with everyone I meet.
—Mark Nepo, from “In Love with the World”
Not the tick, no.
Surely it is not sacred.
Do not try to tell me so.
Repulsive tiny blood suckers.
I do not wish to be impressed
by their survival, do not want
to respect how they have thrived
since the first flowering plants
arrived on earth over
one hundred million years ago.
I do not want to praise
their hard protective shells, nor how
efficiently they swell,
nor the ease with which they sense
moisture, heat, vibration.
Rather to vilify what disgusts me.
Repulsive little carriers of sickness.
Vile little vectors of disease.
What joy is there in knowing
a tick is so effective and good
at doing what a tick was made to do?
Could it be greater than the perverse joy
I get from my hatred? It is clear
my repulsion does not affect the tick.
Oh, clenched heart. Oh, clenched fist.
Where is the line between what I love
and what I resist?
Is it true there is holiness in everything?
How do I wound myself
when my heart and hand are closed?
Let my prayer not be to fall in love,
but to open to the prayer I do not yet know.
One on Thanksgiving
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged paradox, prayer, thanksgiving on November 29, 2024| 13 Comments »
one hand opens in grief
the other in gratitude
pressing them together to pray
When She Asked Me About Prayer
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged annihilation of the separate self, prayer on September 19, 2024| 9 Comments »
I don’t know, but maybe
it has something to do
with sitting on the roof
and watching what’s left
of the lunar eclipse while
crickets sing silence
into ecstatic buzz
and joy spills into my cells
till the idea of self washes away.
Or, when I’m shucked by loss.
The self in tatters. Raw.
Naked. Unable to know.
Utterly flayed. Then.
That’s when I pray.