Another one I must share that I just got today. Again, if this is wrong place, please just direct me to the right place to put this....
" I happened to be standing
I don't know where prayers go
or what they do
Do cats pray, while they sleep
half-asleep in the sun?
Does the opossum pray as it
crosses the street?
The sunflowers? The old black oak
growing older every year?
I know I can walk through the world,
along the shore or under the trees,
With my mind filled with things
of little importance, in full
self-attendance. A condition I can't really
call being alive.
Is a prayer a gift , or a petition,
or does it matter?
The sunflowers blaze, maybe that's their way
Maybe the cats are sound asleep. Maybe not.
While I was thinking this I happened to be standing just outside my door, with my notebook open,which is the way I begin every morning Then a wren in the privet began to sing. He was positively drenched in enthusiasm, I don't know why. And yet, why not. I wouldn't persuade you from whatever you believe or whatever you don't. That's your business. But I thought, of the wren's singing, what could this be if it isn't a prayer? So I just listened, my pen in the air."
By Mary Oliver
