I give you body, mind, and breath.
I give you my geographical preferences,
my survival fears,
my worries over money, livelihood, calling, faith and fame.
I give you my pain and weakness,
and also my strength.
I give you all the ingredients
from which I concoct the myth of separation.
I give you words, poems and personal stories.
I give you my end and beginning,
and most especially the middle,
where I feel most stuck,
suspended like a cloud floating nowhere in particular
when I’d rather be an arrow
aimed straight at revelation.
I give you my concept of truth and illusions,
and all my clever metaphors.
I give you emptiness and joy,
grief at goings and comings and seasons.
I give you my prayers along with my uneasiness,
my certainty that you are listening,
I give you my hope
that I can influence any outcome.
I give you my giving.
Growing silent at last,
I give you the silence.
~ Danna Faulds
Prayers to the Infinite
New Yoga Poems