Prayer

Sometimes it is enough
to touch a blade of grass
and feel it breathe
in the space between the fingers.
I kneel down to pray,
turning inward
to touch that place of silence.
And grace rains on me
from an ever darkening
saffron evening sky.

Poem by Ansua Dutta-Wystup

13 thoughts on “Prayer

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  1. A beautiful poem, it is already part of my meditations; the space between my fingers is like the space between the in-breath and the out-breath, where there is silence. Thank you for publishing it here!

    Liked by 1 person

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