Quiet Reflections and Prayers
Because I dared
to stop
to hear
the faintest
whisper
of a prayer,
I sensed
the time had come
to take the bravest
move of all —
to see that,
in the end,
winning and being right
was exchanged
for words
from a higher place
and the courage
to wait for them
to form.
It happened subtly
at first.
Thoughts and ideas
and all those many
images and words
about how
we should be
and how
things had been
began to fade —
just enough
to let in
something unexpected —
an original thought,
a genuine expression,
a little breathing space —
a tender interaction
almost missed —
the serenity we felt
as we didn’t grasp.
Maybe it was us
who dared to
turn away
in search of
something real.
I honor
each heart
that has dared
to search
for its own
true voice.
May we be
a little more
of who we are —
naturally.
Amen
I honor each part
of me
and of you
that dared
to find the way
back to our hearts.
Having been led
by a whisper
of a love
from which we felt
disconnected,
we began
and we continued on.
We spoke gently because
the delicate nature
of healing hearts
was sensed.
We found strength
in the authentic
connection
with each other
and in our ability
to trust
in our highest calling
and deepest truth
when there was
no guarantee of
how this life
would unfold.
We were healers.
What else could
we do?
It was a delicate thing
to hold
all the pieces
of my own shattered
heart —
setting down everyting
I had gathered
again and again —
listening deeply
without knowing
exactly how –
pulling my very
sense of self
back —
waiting for words
to form
only from this place —
speaking only
to this place —
where there was
peace
and the courage
to continue on.
As I looked back
on the long journey,
the thought came
that if I had to choose
a place to start again,
I would choose
emptiness.
I would go back
to the first time
I was moved
to trust
my own heart —
when there was nothing
left to try
except to drop everything
and find out
what was left.
I would start again
from there.
I began to listen
to the world around me
and to my own heart,
simultaneously.
And though the words
seemed slow
to describe this
natural process,
I found myself
trusting in its power
and moving
a little more gracefully
from this place.
I hold this space
in my heart
for healing.
I vow to stand
in my fear —
to follow in the steps
of my own heart —
to love
beyond hope
simply because it is
my nature to love —
to offer my deepest
silent prayer
to us all —
to be this living prayer
beyond words
in this moment
and the next —
to remember
and repeat the words
How could I not?
Amen
I found safety
in the natural way
I began to explore
myself and the world
around me.
I began to use thought
as a kind of safety net,
an intimate way
of staying grounded
and allowing myself
to be gently guided —
returning safely
again and again
to this quiet space
where I first waited
for my heart to speak
in a way I could
understand.
I learned to listen
with my heart,
to experience
what was right there
in front of me,
and to trust
the natural response
to arise
as a prayer —
somehow, mysteriously
sinking
down into all the places
I had tried so hard
to reach.
Laurie's Notes 