Quiet Reflections and Prayers
Because I had grown tired
of all the trying
so hard
to find my way
back to my own heart,
I found peace
in the simplicity
of the surrender
and natural movement
that happened
in reconnecting with
and being
the quiet prayer
that had guided me
ever so gently
back to itself.
Let us remember
the natural way
all things appear,
transform,
and fade.
Remind us to
hold each other
lightly —
that we may remember
the gentle way
of our own hearts.
Amen
Let us remember
the magical power
of words
shared freely
from the heart —
the gentle, mysterious pull
that awakens souls,
transforms human struggles
into quiet prayers,
and carries all things
safely back
as the most precious treasures.
Amen
I hold this space
in my heart
in honor
of all that has seemed
unhealable,
all that continues
to reach
when it would have been
understandable to give up
the search.
I hold this space
because I know
I don’t hold it alone
and because I have felt
the relief
in finding a safe place
when it is needed most.
Amen
I set out to share
my own story
in my own way,
dropping the details
little by little —
until all that remained
was the most sacred layer —
the sacred journey
into the heart.
And so I entered
this state of prayer
and found my deepest comfort
where I had been
afraid to look.
May we find courage
to stop looking outside
and within
for something
to hide what is
most pure —
that we may find
true and lasting love
in each moment —
in your heart and mine.
And may we find
strength to hold it
together.
Amen
I hold this space
in honor
of all that is
being worked out,
softened,
and transformed
by this mysterious love
of which we are a part.
Amen
It was rather sweet —
the way my mind
began to follow
my lead —
listening,
smiling at the silence
instead of filling it —
holding ever so lightly —
one wordless prayer
after another.
And so I followed
the words —
each time a little further
back into the silence
I had come to love.
I had acquired the taste
for the gentle transformation
into the subtle knowing,
the quiet prayer
I once tried
to understand
and grasp.
I found both loneliness
and freedom
in the many small choices
not to mold the words
that flowed from my heart
into any particular
form or practice.
And so they remained
as they were written,
as my own heart —
untamed and free.
Laurie's Notes 