Quiet Reflections and Prayers
And so my heart
grew weary of the search
for some kind of
relief
from the story
being told on the surface
through the eyes
of the wounded places
in me.
And so its quiet,
wordless whispers
and its ability
to sink in a little deeper
became louder.
And my willingness
to listen
a little more intently
became my greatest strength.
Please
make this okay.
Thank you.
Amen
I found
my deepest comfort
in the sinking down
into the places
I had tried so hard
to heal.
I found peace
in the willingness
to look a little past
what was appearing
on the surface
and in the subtle shift
from the desire
to heal
into the desire to hold
with honor.
It was in the willingness
to stand still
for just a moment
when there was no time
to stand still,
to stop trying so hard
to be better,
to meet whatever appeared —
even if it was nothing
at all.
It was in the persistence
of holding my ground —
even if that very ground
seemed shakey
and dissolved
into the nothing.
It was here
that I found a peace
that never left.
At a certain point,
it became clear
that relief must come
at once,
in the form of
a respite,
an unspoken truce —
in the middle of
all that remained
unhealed
and unsettled.
And so I entered
the place beyond thought.
And though the energy
of what was held there
was often intense,
it was always tender
to sink a little
further in,
to be willing
to allow the uneasiness
to be there
and to subside,
to see this place
outside of me —
to be okay
no matter what.
Lead me safely back
to my Self.
Teach me how
not to follow a thought.
Remind me
of the beauty
that exists
just below the surface.
And when it is
time for words,
let them
always be new.
Help me to set down
conditioned thinking
and the need
to be wise
or to be
anything at all.
Let me be
empty instead.
Amen
I found there was
calm
in the middle of chaos —
sinking down in
and through
to the place called
state of prayer ––
holding on
to the space within,
honoring whatever appeared —
letting go
of everything else.
May we find courage
to follow
the quiet whisper
of love
to our true selves,
no longer pushing it aside
in order to be
what we think
the world needs
us to be —
for the world needs us
to be
what we are —
even if it has forgotten.
Amen
Sometimes the story
on the surface
was too much.
And so I found
I could toss it up
and trust the pieces
to come back down
a little more gently.
And I was thankful
for the quiet
wordless messages
from my heart
that took its place.
I didn’t wish them
to be less subtle anymore
because I knew they came
from that pure place
where nothing is too much.
And when there is
much noise
and movement,
I assure you
I’m still here
in the silence.
Look a little closer,
into and through
your own heart.
I’m still here.
Laurie's Notes 