Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I have held and honored —
set it all down —
watched as it faded back
into nothing.
I have waited
as the perfect pieces
reappeared.
And I have forgotten
and pushed —
tried to make
my own inner art
into something else —
more.
I have forgotten
the importance of the holding
and remembered
as, in my frustration,
it found its own way
and revealed itself to me
again.
On the journey
into my heart,
there were words
that couldn’t be written
or shared.
With each one
came a little more
letting go
and the understanding
that it was, in fact,
in the silent spaces,
held and known
in my own heart
alone,
that I found
the deepest connection,
meaning,
and desire to continue on.
I found comfort in knowing
that the words I did write
would always find
their way back
to the silent space
from which they emerged.
I honor the place
within
where there is
nothing
to sort
or heal —
where it’s enough
to be
as I am.
I found my way
to the natural calm
within.
And though I seemed
to lose this place
for a while,
I held
each whispered prayer,
each precious piece
of a heart
that once thought
it was broken.
And in that holding,
I always returned.
I learned to find my way
to words waiting
just beneath the surface.
But I grew tired
of all the sorting
and tossing up
and laying down
of old things.
I have thrown it all back
and waited patiently
more times than I care
to remember.
Now I’m tired.
And so I will listen
to the silence instead.
There was a longing
to be seen
and the need to disappear —
a wish to be
someone else
in some other place.
And there was,
just below the surface,
a quiet prayer
that always led
straight to my deepest heart
and safely back
to the place of no words.
Sometimes there were
no words.
And so I settled in
a little more deeply —
reaching through
whatever appeared
until I could remember
the emptiness —
this silent prayer.
And so I allowed
the surface
to remain unsettled —
letting go
of every last piece
again and again —
trusting them to return
a little slower,
a little more gently —
until I could bear
the emptiness underneath.
The decision was made
to cling —
not to any outside thing,
but to the space within.
And there was a shaking
I remembered well,
the point of choice —
to focus on the surface
or sink down a little more
and endure,
to hold my ground —
to never again lose
connection with my heart.
In silent memory
of love
and every kind word
never spoken,
yet deeply felt,
I offer this prayer
to you
and to the world –
that we may heal
together.
Amen.
Laurie's Notes 