Lord, I thank you for oysters and porpoises,
praise you for birdsong and sheet lightning,
see you reflected in pools of creekwater
and the eyes of stray cats.
Let me talk to yard dogs
as if they are my friends and fellow travelers
along the sun-tortured highways
intoxicated with the love of God.
Let me see the whole world
with eyes incapable of anything but wonder,
and a tongue fluent only in praise, amen.
(based on a passage from Pat Conroy's The Prince of Tides, pp. 277-278).
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