If I Prayed

And if I prayed or believed in that sort of thing
(It's always struck me as begging- oh dear, high, mighty god of all and vast power, blah, blah, blah-praise the deity- studies show that works best to get your message heard)
I would say
Don't let me forget
That moments of despair are just that
(moments)
That times of anxiety are just that
(times)
That just because something looks dead or dying it doesn't mean it is

(I have seen the roots and tiny green shoots before sticking this in the dirt)
That just because this mind of mine does not work like everyone else's
(Whose does, really?)
That just because I am completely content with a day spent with nothing more
(Nothing more?)
Than just this house, this dirt, this green
This tiny life of small movement
That I am not insane
That I have a place here too
That there is meaning, yes
That there is hopefulness, yes
That what I have been given
And what it is I hone
Is something of worth
(And even if it is not
That it is of no matter.)
That this planet, this one where we live now
Is all about the growing of things
(How can it not be given all this water, all this light, all this black and holy dirt?)
And I have done that.

And remind me that
I will not drown
The water has shown itself to be buoyant
And even warm
And today I will hold the sweet weight of babies in my arms
I will kiss cheeks of plumpness and of age
I will have a moment
(a moment, at least!)
Of remembering all of that

Remind me,
I might say
If I prayed.
If I believed in all of that.
Please
(Deity of choice)
Remind me
All the way down to these deep aching bones
(These bones made of dirt and water)
Remind me.