HomeCommentaryPOEM: Prayer

POEM: Prayer

Date:

Related stories

How we can quit our ‘messiah complexes’ and still try and save humanity

Janet Marugg explores Jiddu Krishnamurti’s rejection of spiritual authority, messiah's and what his example teaches about freedom, conscience and humanism.

‘What would mom think?’ A daughter honors her mother’s willingness to change 

FāVS News columnist Alexandra Fil reflects on her late mom's evolving political views, the lessons of listening and the importance of staying open to change.

Ask a Catholic: Why do Catholics have saints? Isn’t it all about Jesus?

FāVS News columnist Mark Griswold explains Catholic canonization, why the Church recognizes saints and how their lives offer examples of following Jesus.

Our Sponsors

Reading Time: < 1 minute

POEM: Prayer

By Christi Ortiz

How silly my early prayer was
Thinking I needed to somehow reach a God
that was out there...
Thinking I needed to concentrate on my breath
or still a mind who’s nature is to think...
Thinking I needed to do something right
to make something ‘happen’

I did not know the Stillness was already there
Like a deep underground river of prayer always flowing 
even without my awareness
I did not know there was nothing I needed to ‘do’
Nothing needed to happen or not happen,
I could just be, 
just sink into and rest in the Silence

Prayer was inviting me to a deep surrender 
A letting go into the Divine, without effort or understanding
Such ease was possible where my effort lay, 
The fear I couldn’t do it right, that it wasn’t for me...so silly, 
For it is my very nature
A deep Presence within that I could never extinguish nor evade
Hiding in plain sight this God I thought I had to seek

Making prayer so complicated or mysterious
or only a gift for the elite... so silly,
when it’s nature is so abundant, so gracious, so generous 
perhaps it was my great desire that made me fear it so 
or doubt my own ‘ability’
when all I needed to do was show up!
It already lived in me

It didn’t matter what bubbled on the surface,
Distraction, boredom, doubt, confusion, delight, 
all manner of passing clouds will float across the sky, 
it matters not the weather for the day, 
for no matter what, the spacious open sky holds it all
And if I let them go by, I realize I am not the clouds, I am the sky

Christi Ortiz
Christi Ortiz
Christi Ortiz is a licensed marriage and family therapist by profession and a poet by passion.  She enjoys trying to put to words to that which is wordless and give voice to the dynamic and wild spiritual journey called life. She lives in Spokane with her husband and two children, Emmanuel and Grace. She loves the outdoors and meditating in the early mornings which gives rise to her poetry.
0 0 votes
Article Rating
Subscribe
Notify of
guest
0 Comments
Oldest
Newest Most Voted