Quiet Reflections and Prayers
And so I set off
on the sacred journey
to the heart —
determined to return
with some kind of map.
But I soon laughed
at the thought
as I gathered and tossed
each crumpled attempt.
So funny,
what a joke —
that the somewhere
I had tried
to lead us to
was right there
in the surrender
of the words
I couldn’t write.
Let us hold
the sweetest kind of love —
the subtle remembrance
of a deeper truth —
space for healing
and the natural unfolding
of life —
of which we are a part.
Amen.
In case some part
of me
can’t see who I am
at the core,
in case this world
becomes so noisy
that I can’t hear
what is in my heart
and yours,
I send my love
in a timeless prayer
to you
so that you will know —
even if I forget.
Thank you
for safe spaces —
for gentle voices
can feel a little
out of place
in a noisy world
and grow most effectively
in silence.
Thank you
for all that has refused
to toughen up
or fit in —
for we could use
a few more
quiet prayers.
Amen.
Remind me
of the sacred moments,
the ones that touch
my deepest heart,
the moments that appear
right in the middle
of this crazy,
beautiful life —
where there is
always peace.
I offer my willingness
to show up,
to quiet all the pieces
of my heart
just long enough
to gather them into
a quiet prayer
that will carry me
gently from here.
Amen.
I found life is rarely
how it seems
on the surface.
And so I learned
to listen
with my heart,
to paint with words —
to surrender
to silence
as each attempt faded
so sweetly back
into nothing.
Should I ever forget
who I am,
remind me gently.
Guide me safely
back to my heart.
Hold me lightly —
as the journey
can seem so long.
Love me deeply
as I remember.
Amen.
When what can be seen
of me
appears unsettled,
when peace and connection
seem like distant memories lost
somewhere in the future
or the past,
guide me safely back
to my Self.
Amen.
And so I became
the quiet prayer,
the whisper of hope
beneath the noise —
holding steady,
holding a space —
waiting patiently
for words
to find their way
to the shielded heart
from which they came.
One day I found
I had become
the me who once seemed
so far away,
the me who comforted
and gently transformed
whatever appeared,
the me who dared
to stand still
and honor
all the pieces
of a heart
that thought it was
broken.
