Quiet Reflections and Prayers
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.
Love didn’t come
out of understanding
or seeking,
It came
out of my own willingness
to know true healing,
to honor all that appeared
in my deepest heart
and in the world.
I found it
in the turning around,
in meeting its unfolding
in each moment.
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.
There were no words
to speak.
None were needed.
In fact, the slightest sound
served as a reminder
of all that had been
too much —
distractions from the purity
of the one continuous
silent prayer
of a life
transforming gently
into the quiet whispers
that had carried it
safely back
into that very moment
of reprieve.
Art by MichelleMarie
I held
all that needed holding
in my own heart.
There were notes
and healers
and insights.
There were sleepless nights
and more questions
and a million words unspoken.
There was letting go
and returning.
But looking back,
there was only the holding.
Laurie's Notes 