Tuesday, April 1, 2008


The grass beneath a tree is content
and silent.

A squirrel holds an acorn in its praying hands,
offering thanks, it looks like.

The nut tastes sweet; I bet the prayer spiced
it up somehow.

The broken shells fall on the grass,
and the grass looks up
and says,

And the squirrel looks down
and says,


I have been saying "Hey" lately too,
to God.

Formalities just weren't

Love Poems From God, p. 82 Daniel Ladinsky

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