It could be as simple
as using a good paring knife
and singing, as you peel the apple
from top to bottom, then kissing
your grandson's nose as you drop
the unbroken peel on his head.
It could be checking the herbs
in the outdoor pots, noticing
the basil needs water.
It could be wrapping yourself
in a prayer shawl, fingering your beads,
studying the Bible -- all the better
to empty the space, prepare the ground
for the silence which offers answers
to questions which never cease.
It could be putting on your hat,
your boots and your gloves
and shoveling Mrs. Cohen's walkway
before you drive her to the doctor.
You wish she would talk less,
but you tuck your impatience
into the pocket of your coat,
and it escapes only once.
It could be as simple as blessing
the newspaper as you open it,
praying for the spoiled and lost ones
on all corners of the earth.
It could be as simple as knowing
that prayer is also love-in-action
or even hate in non-action,
that there is only one you
in the entire universe,
that your spark-raising cannot be done
by anyone else, not even by God.
~~Jennifer (Jinks) Hoffmann
