Spontaneous Prayer
Like an iguana stretched
in the sun my body
drapes the backyard
lounge. To the east
a wet-weather waterfall shoots
down Big Mountain, a raucous
symphony — sticksnap, windchurn,
rockthunder. At the Lobelia
a hummingbird. Under the bunched
black pines rabbits hop, dash
& disappear in the dim
undergrowth. My gaze drawn
to the windowsill
where a mud-colored
spider respins a broken
web. Dear God,
show us how to rebuild
this splintered world.
21 thoughts on "Spontaneous Prayer"
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like a held breath… desperate for a breeze.
a wonderful moment of waiting.
Amazing poem. Those last lines really throw themselves back like a blanket over everything that led into it in a chilling way.
So many good images and word combos here! Body draping lounge, and the wondrous sticksnap, windchurn, and rockthunder. Every image and word reflects the brokenness. great work.
So many powerful lines and words, Linda. I feel like I am right there with you! Thanks for sharing.
I was expecting Monty to make an appearance in this poem. Where’s Monty? We want Monty!
Seriously, this is beautiful & stirring.
I guess Monty needs his own poem, eh?
He’s begging for it.
You expressed our collective grief quire well!
That ending. Amen.
Echo those that love the windchurn, sticksnap, and rock thunder — just wonderful.
These words remind me of Hopkins — the ways he invented compound nouns and adjectives, like “leafmeal” and “dappled-dawn-drawn falcon.”
Exactly. And such good images, the iguana, mud-colored spiders …
a raucous
symphony — sticksnap, windchurn,
rockthunder.
Under the bunched
black pines rabbits hop, dash
& disappear in the dim…
love the sounds.❤️❤️
The address to God at the end: so powerful and unexpected!
Nice imagery and I really like how you tied it all together at the end. Well done!
Linda – Heart-punch ending! Such tension in the ordinary. So happy to be reading your work again this year.
Your open heart captures the present moment without judgment… A poem of compassion for this splintered world
If prayers and poems are not equal, they are at least congruent
Wonderful sounds:
a wet-weather waterfall shoots
down Big Mountain, a raucous
symphony — sticksnap, windchurn,
rockthunder.
What a prayer! Amen!
O wow, Linda. Just o wow.
Linda, there’s an echo of Hopkins here, but original to you, and powerful with the ending, a surprise yet fitting.