Instructions for {Prayer}
(from Jeremiah 6:16)
Thus sayeth the Lord:
{DROP} the pencil, the dishcloth, the hammer, the mouse,
the grocery list, the pen, the duster, the spoon, the rusted nail.
Open clenched hands and release.
{RAISE} high—veined, smooth, cracked,
bitten-to-the-quick nails—in praise
and let them fall together
slowly. A lotus bud just
about to flower, in front
of your broken tired heart.
{ASK} for the ancient ways,
the old ways, the dusty well-trodden ways hidden
under concrete freeways, byways, overpasses.
Old ways travelled by land ancestors, spirit
ancestors, blood ancestors. By hummingbird, mother,
great-great grandfather, rumoured aunt,
slow-boat-to-Chili traveller, hooded monks scribing on linen,
buddhas awakening under the Bohdi tree
ancestors. Space then, for all the stars, black
holes, comets, galaxies to lead
you
down
to
{REST} from all the longing that ties and binds you.
Let go of striving.
{DROP}
to the ground,
lay supine on a bed
of fallen leaves.
Feel the ancient breath:
in and out and in and out.
Ruah,
from when the world was created,
big bang, first last forever breath.
The way of rest.
Nancy Huggett is a settler descendant who lives, writes, and caregives in Ottawa, Canada on the unceded territory of the Algonquin Anishinaabeg people. Thanks to Firefly Creative, Merritt Writers, and not the rodeo poets, she has work out/forthcoming in Reformed Journal, Literary Mama, Prairie Fire, Pangyrus, and Waterwheel Review.
Amethyst Review 