Quiet Reflections and Prayers
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.
And so I
jumped to the core
of my heart —
because there was
nowhere else
to search —
or because I sensed
the directness
of that move
and the resolve
of all the pieces
of my heart
to lead me
to the peace
I knew was there.
May we know
the meaning of
happiness a little more
intimately —
a little more deeply.
And may it be
naturally reflected.
Amen
When there are
no words
to express,
when there seems
to be no next move,
I will stand still.
I will honor
the space in our
deepest hearts.
And I will continue on —
as a prayer.
I kept searching
until I found
something that could
stop me
in my tracks.
I had let go
of many things.
I had tried so hard
for so long
to sort out
thoughts and all those
wounded places.
I had struggled
and given up.
I had been turned away
and breathed back.
But in that moment,
it was really much
simpler and
more tender
than that.
I found I was
the quiet prayer
in all of it.
It didn’t matter
how cold
the world got
because I always
remembered the day
I found
I wasn’t here
all alone —
when without a sound
I began to sense
a love that
could never
not be.
All things became
infused with
and flowed out of
this quiet prayer —
this same subtle,
inaudible whisper
I strained so hard
to hear —
not so long ago.
The point
in taking this path,
if there was one,
wasn’t to get
to some
sorted out place,
but to see
that wherever I landed
within
this delicate process
of holding and letting go
was a beautiful part
of the whole.
Laurie's Notes 