In A Poetry Handbook, American poet Mary Oliver says: “Poetry is a life-cherishing force. And it requires a vision, a faith, to use an old-fashioned term. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. Yes, indeed.”
Enjoy!
—
Praying
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
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December 17, 2007 at 12:12 pm
Aisha
chills!!! That was really beautiful and so important.
December 17, 2007 at 1:57 pm
yasmine
I’ve been meaning to write a post about prayer for months now, and, because the ritual prayer is always something I struggle with, I’ve struggled with actually beginning the post, too. This poem by Mary Oliver has been saved for a long time in my drafts folder along with a mish-mash of bajillions of other things related to prayer, and I’m so glad to see it here again! It reminds me there can be such simplicity in prayer, even “a few words together.” I keep forgetting this, and being reminded over and over.
Here’s is another poem by Mary Oliver; it also mentions prayer, and I linked to it in my poems-post a while back. My favorite part in bold:
The Summer Day
Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Thank you for that quote that you shared at the beginning of the post, too, Baraka. It touched me so much.
December 18, 2007 at 5:23 am
Brian
Yes I agree. Poetry goes beyond being mere words.
December 18, 2007 at 11:33 am
Baraka
Salaam all,
So glad you liked the poem!
Aisha: The last lines gave me chills too.
YasminAY: Wonderful poem - thank you so much for sharing it!
And, I really hear you - I’ve been struggling with trying to articulate more authentic prayer and this poem reminded me of how real a few simple words can be.
Brian: I loved her quote too. I love that there are still people, countries and cultures that value poetry as “necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry.”
Warmly,
Baraka
December 18, 2007 at 12:46 pm
sara
as i constantly struggle with my sense of spirituality (or lack thereof), i am always soothed by your posts. thanks for sharing such a lovely poem…it’s def. going to get passed along!
eid mubarak to you and i’ll do my best to keep up with posts while in karachi, internet-speed permitting! 
December 19, 2007 at 12:38 am
The doorway into thanks, and a silence in which another voice may speak
[...] posted recently - one on authentic prayer - hers is intimate, raw, and powerful - and the other on Mary Oliver’s poem about praying (from which comes my post title). These first ten days of the month of Dhul Hijjah, [...]
December 21, 2007 at 4:56 am
Kate
I’ve come back often this week to read this poem. I feel like I have finally found a starting point. Than you for posting it.
Kate
January 11, 2008 at 6:06 pm
Baraka
Salaam dear Sara, Yasmine, & Kate:
Sara: Alhamdolillah, thanks for your kind words and I hope things in Karachi have improved after the assassination. Looking forward to more updates!
Yasmine: Your post is simply amazing.
Kate: I’m so glad my dear! Poetry and prayer have the ability to move us to places within us we barely knew existed. I wish you well on your endeavor!
Warmly,
Baraka