top of page
No tags yet.




    Prayer Whatever happens. Whatever what is is is what I want. Only that. But that.

    - Galway Kinnell

    Wow, ok, I guess I'm back for now, no promises. Least of all to myself. Last post was almost 4 months ago, in August. Sometimes forwards is not a shared action.

    Instead of this just being an advanced form of navel gazing (or not just), I've decided to steal a page from my friend Robin's book and see if I could begin to gather the words that are becoming sacred to me. Every day she posts a poem on Facebook--they are often new to me, but occasionally an old friend pops up. This piece by Galway Kinnell has become a favorite, since I read it on her newsfeed in the last few weeks. I am often writing favorite poems in a journal, or making a note somewhere, but what if they became the gathered things that propelled me? This?

    I am not one of those people who can quote poetry like the bible -- I forget author names, have fragments of pieces floating in my brain, unable to assemble on my tongue. So if they located in one place, and I write the poems out physically, a letter at a time, like copying an old master, I wonder what I'll learn in a half year?

    I've been calling all saints for five months –– a mala wrapped around one wrist, a bracelet of saints around the other. My silver bands from Ireland promising one retreat, the braided leather band from Scotland weaving past and future. My arms have two new words inscribed on them: yes and do. And another word over my heart. Signposts one and all. Ah poets. But that.

    Its funny that my last post was at Journey's end, because I went there again with two friends this weekend, walked through freezing fog, maybe a 3-4 mile round trip. Four months ago, I was relieving swelter through quick dips in ice cold pools, the forest's hands surrounding me in green. Now the ice wrapped itself in hoar frost around the southern edges of every branch. Late summer to late fall, the geography of time wiped off this memory map, the lichen grown thick, like flocking or new velvet on a buck's antlers, the hearts of trees marked as boundary or bounty for someone's fire.

    But also, time spent with friends, the right answer.




    1. a solemn request for help or expression of thanks addressed to God or an object of worship; a petition; words spoken. "I'll say a prayer for him". synonyms: invocation, intercession, devotion; archaic oriso

    2. a religious service, at which people gather in order to pray together.

    "500 people were detained as they attended Friday prayerss

    1. an earnest hope, wish, or request. "it is our prayer that the current progress on human rights will be sustained"

    2. a set order of words used in praying

    3. something prayed for

    4. the act of prayings

    5. a slight chance (haven't got a prayer)

    6. one that prays; supplicant


    Middle English: from Old French preiere, based on Latin precarius ‘obtained by entreaty,’

    bottom of page