Toward Common Ground

Morning prayers

Rising sun and a gentle breeze,
a yellow and bronze dew-kissed iris, Celtic,
the rustle of new green, soft, in sturdy oaks,
scent of honeysuckle from the laden fence,
a night-fallen carpet of rose petals, red, that only
cat’s feet can tread gingerly enough,
scatter of bird sounds, a double handful
of plump strawberries ripe for breakfast,
and all everywhere the rest,
beauty and abundance–

This and more for Japan, Libya, Washington,
the Crockett State School, the hungry,
the weary, the teachers, the broken-hearted,
the children,Yemen, the reindeer,
the Gulf waters and Pacific, Mother Earth’s
bony plate’s abrasions and the hot eruptions
from her core, and the individuals, every one
named and unnamed, all my relations—

wisdom, discernment, patience, good health,
joy, bliss, eyes to see, ears to hear, ecstasy,
and, oh yes, a gentle rain to ease the drought,
this or something better, most benevolent outcome,
it is on the way, trust and obey, seen and unseen,
mystery unfolding, guidance provided, plenty of time,
intuition to be trusted, grace, forgiveness, trust,
all I have is all I need—

a sprinkle of tobacco, an offering of song,
an amen, it is so, blessed be, gratitude beyond measure.

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