My
prayers
carry no
sound
at all.
They are
mere
vibrations,
set to
words, that
I
send out
to
others.
Fear not
though,
there is
no magic
here, for magic
has never
been my
thing.
It’s
just a wish,
a hope,
an invisible
safety net
that I knit
from nothing
with the
aspiration that
it may
keep another
free
from harm.
“Please
be careful,”
I say
to the fledgling
male motorcyclist
without
a helmet
who is weaving
in and out
of traffic
on I91N
on his
brand new
Kawasaki.
“May
peace be in your heart,”
I say to
the dear colleague who
just lost
his patient
to suicide.
“I’m so
sorry,”
I say to
the small black
bear cub
lying
lifeless
in the middle
of the road
with a
man in a sedan
looking on
nearby.
“Easy
does it,”
I say to
the frazzled
young mother
in
Target
who is coarsely
grabbing
her son
by the arm.
“Go
slowly,”
I say to
the California psychologist
who is
about to
testify before
the
Senate
Judiciary Committee.
And
always, “breathe.”
-Me
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