Words began
to flow out
from within.
But it was
the surrender
in each moment
and connection
with my own
inner healer
that helped me
to become
the continuous
quiet prayer
I had heard
so clearly
in my heart.
Tag: heart
Within My Heart
At a certain point,
turning back
wasn’t really an
option.
Continuing to
push and try
to force any pieces
to fit at all
began to look
a little silly.
And so I vowed
to allow
myself to blend
a little more
completely
with the quiet prayer
I held within
my heart.
The Path of the Heart
For the nurturers
of consciousness
and holders
of all things
sacred and
unseen,
I offer my quiet
prayer
and vow to continue
to honor
and follow
the sacred unfolding
of the path of
the heart.
Amen
For a Moment
There was a
tenderness
that came out of
having dared to
set down everything
I thought I knew,
for a moment —
so that I could
know my own deepest
heart.
Hidden Within
There was
a delicate tenderness
in the ability
and willingness
to look beyond
the surface of all
things —
to stand firmly
in my heart
in all instances —
to refuse to miss
treasures hidden
within —
to renew my vow
with each step —
to always find
the path of my
heart.
In the Direction of My Heart
It was the feeling
of being connected
with all of my own
fractured pieces
I had longed
to reclaim.
It was this longing
for this sacred
reconnection
I had sensed
returning
to all of my
experiences
that calmed me
whenever I reached
in the direction
of my own
heart.
In the Direction of My Heart
Sometimes
the very best
I could do
was focus where
I was —
sinking
just below
the surface
where quiet prayers
were felt —
following —
floating —
allowing
each piece
of me
to flow most
naturally
in the direction
of my
heart.
With an Open Heart
There were times
it seemed
my spirit
was tired.
And so I continued on
a little more
gently —
finding rest
as I lightly embraced
and let go
with open hands
and an open
heart.
Subtle Knowings
Something longed
to know the space
below the surface —
to tune myself
to subtle knowings
of my own unwhispered
prayers.
It startled me
at first
to sense
my own true voice
and notice where
attention landed
when it was allowed
to play.
The subtleness
seemed almost
too tender to hold
without trying
to translate into
words.
But I learned to hold
the forming words
a little longer
and allowed my heart
to lead.
My Greatest Hope
It wasn’t about
trying so hard
to create,
really.
Healing my own
shattered heart
was an art,
not a formula.
It took the strength
of each piece
risking to trust
when it would have
made more sense
to turn away.
It took the strength
to reach
and to hold
with open hands —
without grasping
or needing to avoid
being left
alone
in my reaching
while praying
to God that
wouldn’t happen.
It was a risk
that at a certain point
had become
my greatest hope.
Laurie's Notes 