Lenten Sabbath Two: A Poem

February 25, 2024

On this second Sunday of Lent, I turn once again from meditating on a daily quotation to rest in the quiet of Sabbath with this poem.

Dawn Prayer

Let my prayer be the geese
whose honking rises
in raucous praise;
let it be the black-capped chickadee,
chitting in the bare limbs of the hickory,
the pin-points of light sprinkled
across the lake’s placid face
where fog rises like incense
around two fishermen, silent, somber
awaiting a gift from the depths
of the slow-awakening waters.
Let my prayer be my partner
settling himself with a holy sigh
on the porch chair near me,
the scent of his coffee a sacred aroma.
Let me say “yes” to the gray-striped tabby
curled in a glow of sun spot, the rise
and fall of his furred side
as rhythmic as chant.
Let my prayer be each tawny-tinged leaf
that releases itself
to settle on fallow ground
and let it be the waft of smoke
from a neighbor’s fire that drifts
like angels’ wings
through the screened windows.
Let my prayer arise
like this very silence
and be acceptable:
a wordless worship.

(c) Rosemary McMahan

Photo credit: Rosemary McMahan