a prayer is just another way of saying “yes”
to beneficial outcomes
to the mist of a dew-filled morning
to the rise of the question and the answer deferred
to so-called detours designed to keep you on your way.
a prayer is a vision upheld – no more, no less
a promise that spring will arrive on the heels of darkness
deep aches will come to overflow with a most succulent satisfaction
or perhaps the yearning never will pass,
merely soften to a lesser sharpness.
prayer is scarcely more than a confluence of whispers on the air
an agreement to search out lingering joy within an inhospitable field
a willingness to receive what is offered
to turn aside inapt fruits clearly destined for another
the acceptance of that which you do not recall ordering,
yet here it is on your doorstep all the same.
a prayer is but a song whose every word pines to be bathed in lustrous moonlight
the dance that has not yet attained heavenly grace
a bud whose seeds can only anticipate the flowering
a summer day whose full-throated sun has not yet sounded its most irradiant tone
a tree whose roots and leaves quicken to mimic the branched arc of a cloudless sky.
a prayer is the beat of a heart that sings through the rain
a cry, a call, the kiss of a supposition
the rapt stillness between breaths
the glance long remembered, the echoing chord
a moment reconstituted in a solemn gesture of surrender:
embrace of all things, attachment to none.
(This poem first appeared here in August 2010.)