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  • Writer's pictureRev. Ani

I Sit Still

Poems From The Porch

I sit still and the whole world comes to me.

I am serenaded by a symphony of sound:

the soothing, steady flow of the waterfall;

the sweet melodies of the birds;

the intermittent bellow of a frog;

the wind rushing through the trees;

and the chime of the tower bell awakening us to presence.

In the distance, the lush and profuse fern are whispering their sweet secrets.

Perennials and annuals, laden with scents and vibrant beauty, hold me captive in their sensuality.

Even the stones glisten with their embedded gems!

My companions are many:

large, shiny goldfish swaying under the pond's surface;

busy, tiny chipmunks scurrying hurriedly on their errands;

a curious squirrel taking the measure of me with his deep, brown eyes;

quiet, gentle deer lying camouflaged in the tall grasses or grazing in the nearby valley;

an attentive mockingbird flying away and back to feed her young chicks in their homey nest;

fourteen Canada geese waddling, pecking, and swimming together in the evenings;

a loud bullfrog honking a roll call to his hidden family;

red-winged blackbirds, robins, an egret, a kingfisher, and ants of every size.

Norway and blue spruce, red maple, languid willows, and regal pines adorned with cones, are offering their steady support.

Some playful painter has stroked elderly trunks with sage and emerald lichen.

There are humans here, too--

strolling and sitting,

sometimes praying, sometimes talking;

maybe both.

Sunshine blazes its warmth,

glimmering through the leaves and highlighting sparkles of dew.

Helicopter seeds are twirling overhead.

What makes one goose suddenly cry loudly and firmly to usher his family in a certain direction?

What is the meaning of the roll call of the frogs?

Why do humans, such as I, get kidnapped from the glory of the present moment to ruminate on the past, worry about the future, or shame ourselves for nebulous wrongs?

Ripples on the water's surface remind me of the impact every being has on every other--

whether perceived or invisible.

The bell on high sounds the hour,

and I am recollected with a smile.

A robin dives and swoops over the liquid reflection before me.

I breathe.

I wait.

The whole world comes to me.


Engaging With The Poem

Poetry can be a doorway to the soul and your own creativity. Throughout the ages, the written word has been used as a means to access personal truth and as a vehicle for prayer through the practice of sacred reading (lectio divina). I encourage you to try this beautiful practice and let its truths to be self-evident.

How To Practice Sacred Reading


READ the passage through slowly more than once, noticing how it feels in your body and the response of your heart.

REFLECT: What word resonates with you? What phrase speaks to you? What overall personal meaning comes to you? Allow yourself to follow a tangent.

RESPOND by making space for the prayer of your heart to manifest. Write down the words and/or phrases that resonate with you, and allow them to arrange themselves into your own poem or prayer.

REST with your eyes closed, perhaps using the word that most resonates with you as your mantra for silent meditation.


Dear friend,

May your mind be peaceful and calm,

may your body be relaxed and comfortable,

and may your heart be filled with love.

Thank you for reading.

Blessings and gratitude,


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