Gazing to the right I see my lost selves
in an old apple tree near the river.
When they look to their right,
as they always do,
they see into a world I might have known.
Gazing to the left shows me light.
On a hot night in Texas I lay under clouds
alive with lightening.
My children lay with me in the dry grass,
speaking of electricity—
positive and negative energy—
while our gazes were gathered
into those glittering clouds.
Now I stand and wait for the mercy of rain.
(This is the beginning of a series on a prayer said by Baha'is every day. I love coming back to this prayer on such a frequent basis, as it's really myself I come back to.)