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.
“Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.” (Mark 1:35)
spiritphoto 
Profoundly beautiful!
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