I prayed today
jogging along the beach
with my thoughts praying
to be a good father, friend, lover, teacher.
No, in truth, I admit I prayed first
to be a good thinker.
When I saw a tiny, yellow flower
at my feet poking out
between concrete street slabs
facing the south sky and sea
no more than a half inch across
fitting where it could.
I thought about what I should think
about this flower,
what it might symbolize:
survival, perseverance, belongingness, fitness
growing in such a tight, unwelcome space
but not unwelcoming to the flower.
I prayed I could think about this flower,
its meaning to me:
how we fit into the small spaces of our lives,
not always welcome
but always needing to survive and fit
into our own praying thoughts.