Prayer of My Granddaughter

I give no faith 

to the ways of madeup gods,

but watching my young granddaughter

take a moment from play

to pray by herself

at the grave of her pet,

I know there is prayer.

There is a turning inward 

to all the self,

a proving of the universe.

No need for a god,

She is the god.

She is the universe living,

the circle closing

embracing its own.

She stands at her best,

folds her hands

bows her head

summons a silent blessing

from the place of places

that powers the heart,

ends with her own amen.

When she turns to play again

there is more to the air.