Sometimes it is necessary to reteach a thing of its loveliness, to put a hand on the brow of the flower and retell it in words and in touch "You are lovely .... You are lovely" Until it flowers again from within of self-blessing.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
-from The Summer Day, by Mary Oliver