Sometimes when I   Leave a comment

pray, I have nothing to say.

Sometimes I’m all talk and no ears.

In between is also prayer, listening to that interval between breaths, then the breath after.


crocuses in rain, yesterday afternoon


Sometimes when I have no words, you are my prayers, my trees.

Nothing I have to say helps, so I stay still, Then I find my body has been praying anyway, heart beating, beating, and breath in, breath out, breath in again.

Sitting with a candle, I am not yet flame. Fire
waits for the moment I light.

I am a prayer the ancestors prayed. Night, cloudy sky, slaps of rain. Wind.
First one star peeks through, then another, impossible sparks of distance.

Only the silence has room enough to hear my heart.

/|\ /|\ /|\

Posted 30 March 2020 by adruidway in Druidry

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