Talking to God

The grass beneath a tree
is content and silent.

A squirrel holds an acorn
in its praying hands
offering thanks,
it looks like.

The nut tastes sweet;
I bet the prayer added
to its taste somehow.

The broken shells fall on the grass,
the grass looks up
and says
“Hey”

And the squirrel looks down
and says
“Hey”

I have been saying “Hey” lately too,
to God

The formal way was just not working

Rumi

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