"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,..." ( The dry creek is finally filled with fresh rain, making music over the old stones.)
"...,how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day...." ( look, from the oak leaf filled ground..., new life always returns, bringing strange, transient beauty...,)
( and amazing, springing shooting stars.)
"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 wild and precious life?"
(from part of a poem by Mary Oliver. The words in parentheses are mine.)