I found there is
a prayer
within us all,
a whisper of hope
gently quieting our
hearts —
reaching through
old wounds and labels —
gathering pieces
of a gentler story
waiting to be
told.
Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I found there is
a prayer
within us all,
a whisper of hope
gently quieting our
hearts —
reaching through
old wounds and labels —
gathering pieces
of a gentler story
waiting to be
told.
Thank you
for walking with me
through my despair
when there was
no guarantee
that it would
be enough
to reach
the other side —
aside from
the feel of
your steady hand
and willingness
to wait for mine.
I learned to listen
with my heart —
navigating my way
gently through
all that had been
too much.
I found I could
back up a little
when part of me
needed picking up.
I found relief
in letting go
of everything,
refocusing
in my heart
and waiting for
words to form
as a prayer —
reaching deep down
to where I couldn’t
reach before —
always just enough.
I began to listen
with my heart
to words
reflecting my own
inner knowing.
There was a calling forth
and allowing of
my own true voice
to flow out
though my own
unique experiences
and join
with others
in such a way
as to form
a symphony
of clear sound
and the accompanying
pauses.
I began to
see my own small part
and those around me
as connected
and important —
leading us safely
through all that was
unclear.
There was peace
in being
without words —
allowing
all that was
too much
to be —
waiting for
a more subtle message
to form —
wating for our hearts
to speak.
I found
words shared
with pure intent
could travel
deep down
into parts of us
in great need
of comfort.
I found just a few,
deeply felt,
could calm the places
where nothing else could
reach.
I had to know
what was right
there with me,
an internal knowing
I seemed to have
lost —
a different kind
of thought
that bubbled up
subtly
more like sensing —
a quiet prayer
that, when followed,
led through challenges —
past all the surface hype —
back into real satisfaction
and lasting
calm —
naturally clearing away
every other question —
softening
everything in its path —
if only I could
remember the words.
Words appear
out of the desire
to somehow reflect
the completeĀ surrender
of trying
to express and comprehend
the unspoken connection
to the natural source
of peace
within my heart
and yours.
But my prayers have
no words at all.
And so I entered
a state of prayer,
an intense healing —
a holding
of the most tender kind,
the decision to go
all the way
to the core,
to find the place
before the words,
and to never turn back.
I turned around,
remembering all who had
reached out a hand
when I thought
I was lost,
when I couldn’t hear
my own voice
or find my own
sacred ground.
And at last there were
no words,
no more questions —
no other choice
but to reach back.