“Dared to pray”

I suspect we all have moments in our lives (some moments last for years) where there is a heaviness that sits with you. This weight is weightier in the mornings for me. I’m no good at this, but I know the best medicine many times is a walk — taking time to be with nature. Centuries of saints have said it: the land beneath us if so often the balm our spirits need.

I “dared to pray” today, as Mary Oliver would say. The healing salve of spring is all around and while I’m not completely mended up, at least I dared to pray today.

Enjoy this lovely poem by a soul mother, Mary Oliver, titled “Morning Poem:”

Every morning

the world

is created.

Under the orange

sticks of the sun

the heaped

ashes of the night

turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches —

and the ponds appear

like black cloth

on which are painted islands

of summer lilies.

If it is your nature

to be happy

you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination

alighting everywhere.

And if your spirit

carries within it

the thorn

that is heavier than lead —

if it’s all you can do

to keep on trudging —

there is still

somewhere deep within you

a beast shouting that the earth

is exactly what it wanted —

each pond with its blazing lilies

is a prayer heard and answered

lavishly,

every morning,

whether or not

you have ever dared to be happy,

whether or not

you have ever dared to pray.