A day of prayers
However sharp the corner,
Would I cut my hand
If I ran it gently over its razor edge?
Gentle be my hand that glides over rough edges,
Clear be my mind to which the hand makes a pledge.
Like the steps
That feel no need to scale the stairwell,
May I be that part which aligns
With the whole in my aspiration to fare well.
May my gaze be humble,
And in service may my hands be raised.
However powerful our gadgets and machines,
They work only by natural laws pristine.
Let my life be such:
May I clear the debts of the past,
And from my future have no credit asked;
In its appointment with the present, let my peace last,
O Lord, above all else,
Through my counted years, let my contentment last.
New leaf
The woods stood naked after a long bitter winter,
Then sprang forth a tiny leaf
With the promise of the forest that will come to be.
What further expression of faith and freedom do we need,
Beyond the sight and secret of this new leaf?
Sky breathing through the earth
Silence and stillness
Have been the invitation of these quiet winter days.
My recovery began
As I stood
With my feet planted firmly on the ground.
For then, from the soles of my feet
I could feel
The sky
Breathing through the earth beneath
Neighbourhood of peace
So many days I’ve spent with my plants and trees,
Nurtured by my neighbourhood of peace.
They brought my attention to an aliveness that endures,
And in its embrace, I have felt myself exist.
My garden has been a gift,
A balm for my heart that has bled.
Allowing for my inner self to shift,
Opening a door, it has led to my true recovery.
The nurturance of my nature
Till my eyes refused to look within,
The nurturance of my own nature
Remained hidden from me.
But in the eye of the eye
I found my tending attending to me.
Excerpted with permission from Days of Recovery: Poems, Nomita Kapur, Speaking Tiger Books.
