I know that prayer takes many forms. It happens when I’m gathered with other believers. It happens when I’m grateful. It happens when I am in great need. It happens when I see or know of another suffering. It happens best when my lips are silent and my heart is speaking. I find peace when I pray. Whatever your tradition or faith, I imagine it is much the same for you.
I am glad daylong for the gift of song,
For time and change and sorrow;
For the sunset wings and the world-end things
Which hang on the edge of to-morrow.
I am glad for my heart whose gates apart
Are the entrance-place of wonders,
Where dreams come in from the rush and din
Like sheep from the rains and thunders.
Source
I am but a small-winged bird:
But I will conquer the big world
As the bee-martin beats the crow,
By attacking it always from Above.
A Song
Lucretia Maria Davidson
Life is but a troubled ocean,
Hope a meteor, love a flower
Which blossoms in the morning beam,
And whithers with the evening hour.
Ambition is a dizzy height,
And glory, but a lightning gleam;
Fame is a bubble, dazzling bright,
Which fairest shines in fortune’s beam.
When clouds and darkness veil the skies,
And sorrow’s blast blows loud and chill,
Friendship shall like a rainbow rise,
And softly whisper—peace, be still.
