Before she knew us
Safely, we had arrived
Into the circle of her prayer
Daily she sends out, these
Her little ships of prayer
Quiet, eyes closed
She sits with palms overlapping
One thumb,
Resting against the other;
A centering, of her prayer
Our chairs, gathered close
Sweet smells dwell in the room
A formality of introduction
We meet a woman—Mary
Her voice, a distant shore
Prayers, mixed in among the flour
As her hands, had kneaded the dough
Our hands resting here,
Her spirit, outside of time
Our minds, adrift
Upon turbulent seas
Awaiting the days ahead
Sending us away, this evening
With a Sister’s blessing:
Her prayers for us, yesterday
Baked into bread, for today
Little triangles, of lemon-raisin scents
These, the sails of our ships;
For stormy days ahead
Ships of blessing,
Fit to travel the midst of un-calm seas