This is my time,
before the flood
and rising water,
before the wind
and shaking trees,
alone in the dark
listening to the silence,
gathering what I am
into a bundle of prayer.
This is my time,
before the flood
and rising water,
before the wind
and shaking trees,
alone in the dark
listening to the silence,
gathering what I am
into a bundle of prayer.
Such a gift, to be able to be gentle with oneself.
I think that you have suggested a mantra here; we are in an age where prayers are what is on the menu of mental food. Thanks, Don. You are a treasure.
Silence, Gathering myself, prayerful, making space for what will be.
So sweet and gentle. Love it, thank you.
Yielding….in kindness….compassionately…..unselfishly loving….toward others, even as evening shadow creeps in. Its less lonely this Way.
Lovely, Don.
This poem put me into instant meditation. I can still feel it in my solar plexus.
Thank you for the blessing.
Thanks Don, it speaks to someplace deep within us all.
Yes, Don,
My prayers are important, living alone since January 2009.
Thanks, Don. Beautiful as always.
At my age, when all my external persona is set aside and I am at my most vulnerable, all I am is a soft bundle of prayers — not cleverly put together in a cohesive vision, just a soft bundle, tied together with my breathing.
I do a lot of prayer these days. All is well here just older. I love your poetry. the expression is so wonderful….thanks
A wonderful, poignant place to be….just waiting and listening…
We created some significant things together in our walk brother, like our friend Michael used to say, its the greatness we put into the little things we share that make the big difference – such a beautiful soft bundle.