Pause.

Rain comes down
like prayer
between the trees.
The ground is soaked.
A line of geese, singing,
circles the valley
as if wandering,
going their distances.
Trees, these prayers, reach down
into mysteries, converse unheard.
I walk among them.
I walk among them.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes. “Prayer.” November 18, 2019.

Unfolding Light.

In the stillness of the quiet, if we listen, we can hear the whisper of the
heart giving strength to weakness, courage to fear, hope to despair.

Howard Thurman