A Secular Prayer - June 9 2025

 

A Secular Prayer

June 9 2025



It wasn’t Biblical.

Nothing like the monsoon.

And if you’ve seen deserts bloom

when the rain comes

once a decade or two

it didn’t compare.

There were no rivers

welling-up from nothing

and gushing through the sand;

no brilliant desert flowers

carpeting the land

you took for dead;

as if life could materialize

just like that

out of barren wilderness.

Still, it came down hard.

So on the 3rd day

when the cloud finally cleared

and a welcome sun appeared

it felt supernatural;

its heat soaking in

to my puckered pale skin

and rheumy bones.

No rainbow,

no promise,

no miracles.

Just lush green grass

that seemed lit from within,

leaves glistening

with crystalline drops,

and a fresh breeze

with a bracing edge.

I felt as refreshed

as a cold plunge,

as replenished

as forgiveness

for confessing my sins.

There were mirrored puddles

containing the sky,

and the world

— in all its fecundity

and possibility,

disorder and renewal —

was washed impossibly clean.

At least for now.

I saw men in suits

who stride briskly

head down

making time,

and young women

who can't pry their eyes from a screen,

stop

look up

and take in the sun

as if they’d never seen it before.

You'd have thought that the Ark

after 40 days and nights

of sea-sick animals and faith-testing waves

had finally set down

on solid land;

a firm thump

and a little list to one side.

The boat at rest,

its passengers spared.

But still, it was a moment of gratitude

we all could share;

turning to face the sun

in a secular prayer

of wordless thanks.