Hey

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, 
"Hey."

And the squirrel looks down 
and says,

"Hey."

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

Formalities just weren't
working.

~Jalaludin Rumi translated by Daniel Ladinsky

posted under |

2 comments:

Natasha said...

:) I really like this poem!

June 13, 2010 at 12:18 PM
Karen Johnson said...

So cute!!

June 15, 2010 at 8:37 PM

Post a Comment

Newer Post Older Post Home
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

About Me

I was born and I will die. I eat, breath, sleep, talk, and periodically raise my voice. For a little variation I read, watch movies, and walk on the beach. I am a Christian, a Canadian, and a homeschool graduate. When it rains I stare at the windshield wipers and get mad when the wipers move a little too fast for the stream of water that is desperately trying to get away. When it's sunny I walk down to the beach and think about amnesiacs washing up on the shore. When it snows I stay inside with a book and curl up in a blanket. I like CSI Las Vegas, Criminal Minds, and Firefly. I like dark chocolate and dandelions and daisies and wild roses. And RED.

    Followers