Quiet Reflections and Prayers
I release
these pieces
having held
and honored
and transformed
each one
into a prayer
in my heart.
I know they belong
not only to me,
but to all of us.
And so I send
this message in a bottle
back
to where I found it —
knowing whatever returns
will come freely,
as a gift from
a deeper me.
I found it didn’t
matter so much
just how things
played out
on the surface.
The wholeness
of the world
around me
and within
never left my side —
ever.
It changed form.
At times
I seemed to be
alone.
But if I got
really honest
and brave enough
to look,
there was always
some connection —
somewhere.
There were times
when the contrast
of connection
and the disconnect
was too much
to hold
all at once.
But I learned
how to hold
and honor
my own steps
and those who
crossed my path —
a little at a time.
Life became
a sacred journey.
And whatever the world
reflected back
was okay.
I found I could
send a note
back
through time
to the place
just before
I needed it —
reaching into
a wordless place
that couldn’t be reached
in any other
way.
Life became
a little sweeter
as I continued
to light my own
unfolding path.
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.
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.
I learned
to use all that
had once seemed
unwanted and painful
in my experiences
and inner heart.
I found there was
tenderness
and connection
and meaning
hidden as treasures
to be found.
And so I vowed
to hold
and honor
and set down
all of it —
until I could
hear my own quiet prayers
more clearly.
It wasn’t always
comfortable.
But it was always
tender.
In this moment,
I declare
a truce,
a respite —
a little space for
calm —
here,
in the stillness
of my heart.
I found that
I could filter
and then hold
all that was
tender within
and all that was
reflected back
just a little gentler.
And so I vowed
to hold these things
a little longer —
sure that they would
grow.
After a while,
I found
the subtle knowings
that bubbled up
from the space
within my heart
and offered comfort
I could hold
to be worth
the natural gathering of
treasures hidden
in the experiences
and quiet letting go
that happened just
before.
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.
Laurie's Notes 