A prayer for all the places in the US with fires. And the world, too.
Prayers for people and animals and horses in California.
And everywhere else.
Prayers for the flooded and for rescue and care. Sending love. And money.
For the Daily Prompt: critical. It is critical to find everyone who is still lost, flooded, ill.
Oh small gentle heart, small self, young one. May I listen to you, may I hold you close, may I let your innocent heart be open and joyful, may I not fear contact with others. May I let you open. May I open without fear or in spite of fear. May I be generous and kind. May I listen with you, oh gentle self, and may I hear the gentle self of others: the gentle self of a friend, of a loved one, of an acquaintance, of a stranger, and even of those who have hurt me. May I have no enemies. May my heart shine with your glory, oh small gentle heart, small self, young one. May I stay connected with you, open to you and open through you to the Beloved, to all beings and all things.
Blessings and thank you, Beloved.
For the weekly prompt: satisfaction.
Flowers and prayers for an old friend who is sick. Sending love.
For Blogging from A to Z: letter P in my virtues and views theme
I wrote this after a run in 2002. My mother had died of cancer in May of 2000 and I was struggling with grief and reevaluating my life. I really did sing to an eagle and lose track of the footprints I was following. At the end of the run I thought that I could be in grief, like the rocks and the water. Even if no one else was there, the waves and the rocks were still present, I could put my hands on them, the feeling of wet and cold grounded me and made me feel less lost.
Prayer to a rock
I went running
along the sunny beach
and ran into shadow
I kept running even though
there was beach with sun
because the shadow felt right
I ran towards a dead snag
Huge rocks were scattered on the beach
I stopped and placed my palms on one
And asked the rock to take away my grief
And then though, no, that wasn’t right
I asked the rock to lend me its strength during grief
I ran on
I took some comfort that there were
footprints in the sand
Someone had preceded me
I ran to the snag
an eagle sat on top
I sang America the Beautiful
to the eagle
when I looked again
the eagle soared, wings spread, out of sight
I turned to run back
and now there were only my footprints
I thought I’d imagined the other set
in my grief
Then I passed the woman and her dog
who now were tracing my footsteps
I had passed them
I ran within my grief
I let it rise
I stopped twice more at rocks
One to change my prayer again
ask the rock to inspire me with its strength
Once to thank the rocks
I passed from the shadow
again into the light
I walked early Friday. I passed this sculpture on the way to coffee and stopped. I like the addition…