Monday Morning Prayer

  Scattered seeds, scattered me   strewn across the landscape   like the leftovers of an exploded fruit.   Full of me, I dropped the pieces here and there   along the way   without the time to STOP and listen.   Father, retrieve my prayers.   Draw around them the frame of your love….

Write the world a story –one of your very own– with a beginning like no other. Paint a picture only you can paint with brushes dipped in days and nights of  liquid life when it pools and puddles. Illustrate the middle and  tell us how it is, with all the color, the light, the dark…

I stroll in  for a ‘few’ groceries at The Hundred Dollar Store, stopping first for what passes for sustenance  (never shop when you’re hungry). The bright-eyed toddler tossed in the air before me while parents wait for pizza, kissed by dad, hugged by mom, she slyly smiles, curling into strong shoulders.   I push away,…

Writing comes from listening, so I’ve taken quiet steps outside away from the loud  to hear better. Eyes open this time  to see AND hear–this– the delicate drops of fuchsia,  ballerinas fluttering like so many upside-down firecrackers, fragile, full of beauty dropping feathery tendrils to the silent air.

I wish I could collectthe light, landing its shadowson this page as it creepsever brighter through the gray. Pour it out to wash my heart,salve the wound of thispresent heaviness, the sighsthat never end. Hold it lightly aloft, prayingno sharp wind orquiet, steady breezesnuff it out, for weneed it so Father, carry us,ferry us through…