Teach us to pray, Lord, as you taught the stars, calm, lucid concentrations, perfectly at peace with night. Teach us to pray, Lord, as you taught the trees, firm and fearless, forever exposed to the deluded axe swung against the strength of wisdom. Teach us to pray, Lord, as you taught the snake, silently charged by sun, always in touch with earth along the full length of her body. Teach us to pray, Lord, as you taught the child, devotee of play quick to worship wonder with timeless attention, building inner worlds outside. Teach us to pray, Lord, as you taught yourself, alone in the wilderness, harassed by doubt and holding ground, served by beast and angel, serving, in turn, the fraternity that runs between. Teach us to pray, Lord, as you taught the earth, who teaches still, who loves out of fullness and weeps out of hope.