May all beings…

There’s a spider
crawling on the Buddha
that sits on my desk,
and I wonder
if she —
the spider —
is praying,
wonder if I might
ask her
to do so
on my behalf
for the
butterfly
I have no heart
to remember,
its blacktop
last breaths
and wingbeats
were things
I could not bear
this morning
on my way
to the woods
that are
themselves
dying.
Good Lord,
if I stop
to kneel down
for each
and all of it,
there would be
no time left.

Poem ©2023, Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift.