Waiting for Words

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



Your Steady Hand

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.

Waiting for Words

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,


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.

My Own True Voice

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


I began to

see my own small part

and those around me

as connected

and important —

leading us safely

through all that was


Deeply Felt

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



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


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 —


everything in its path —

if only I could

remember the words.

No Words At All

Words appear

out of the desire

to somehow reflect

the complete 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.

No Words

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.