Prayer Of The Heart

 

When I was eight years old

I bought five pet turtles

with soft green shells,

each of them no bigger

than my thumb,

from the basemen of J. J.

Newberry's Department Store

before it went out of business.

One morning in early March,

unseasonably warm,

when I thought it was Spring,

I tried to do something good.

I did not know what good is then,

nor do I now,

but I wanted to perform

a secret sacrament

and return them to

the heart of nature.

So I took my five

green turtles down

to the creek in the woods

behind my friend Wendy's house

and let them go.

I remember I could hold them

all in the palm of my hand.

I watched them swim away

in the freezing water

and thought they would be free.

But I felt strange,

I still feel strange,

I still don’t know what good is,

what nature is.

Blessed Mary, Mother of God,

have mercy on me.

Holy Spirit, Breath of God,

forgive me,  

yet breathe me

even now.