How I pray

When I walk in woods
I go not to get somewhere,
not to ponder, not to think.
I go there to be there.
I look and see what I see.
I hear what I hear.
I enter. I notice.
And I am allowed.
I am no stranger here
or even in strange places.
They know me.
I am of this same earth,
fashioned of the same soil.
They do not judge.
They offer their being
as if speaking.
I let them bless me.
For the rest of the day
they breathe in me.
Their colors, their songs
ooze from me all day.
I am always still there.


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