SMALL MINISTRIES

 In the red and white church of

my bones I carry the matrix of

small ministries:

I sing to all kinds of babies,

curving my air into the

tiny spoons of their ears;

I pick up so carefully

each eyeless jewel of an

earthworm caught on cement

and return it to the sentient soil;

I speak greenly like daylight to

plants; I always try to comfort a

hurting animal, even invertebrates.

And I look back with staggering love

at the silent lost child I was

and tell her she is so precious.

 

J. Pratt-Walter, © 2024