Pine Needles Are Prayers

by Sarah J. Martin

When I say I prayed this morning,
I mean that I swayed on the swing and studied
The pine trees in front of me
And thought about prayer.
Every part of the tree
Is a needle-compass pointing to
The all-pervading, all-encompassing air.
Like my prayers—from high to low
To every point in between,
From any compass-direction of my life
Always ending in the Heart that surrounds
My pointing-in-every-direction life.
Whether from close to the Trunk,
Or on the farthest reaches of the longest branch—
It is not an equal tree—
My prayers enter silent power
And meet provision that feeds
Even the most faithless tips of it
And meets its needs.

Sarah lives in the rocks and trees of cottage country, where she loves family, words, old books and buildings, and light in all its forms.

Photography by Kenneth Godoy