Praying, by Mary Oliver
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
During times such as these when I have more time to myself than ususal, I find my prayer becomes simpler, more of an entering into silence, being present and aware and listening, an openness to the voice of God within.