A Little Girls Prayer

 Grant me the moment, the lovely moment
That I may lean forth to see
The other buds, the other blooms,
The other leaves on the tree:

That I may take into my bosom
The breeze that is like his brother,
But stiller, lighter, whose faint laughter
Exhoes the joy of the other.


Above on the blue and white cloud-spaces
There are small clouds at play.

I watch their remote, mysterious play-time
In the other far-away.


Grant I may hear the small birds singing
the song that the silence knows.
.
.

(The Light and the Shadow whisper together,
The lovely moment grows,

Ripples into the air like water
Away and away without sound,
And the little girl gets up from her praying
On the cold ground)

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