May her pain be healed.
May she always know love,
And always have love in her life.
May her heart continue to grow
As it has always grown,
Steadily across these many years.
May each new day be her blessing
And each new night bring peace and rest.
A prayer for my wife.
Germs in the air and on the surface of things.
Which things? We never know, really.
Death on our fingertips. Disease in our lungs.
Still, the rain on the hills form streams,
And the streams feed creeks,
Then rivers. Then the ocean.
Can the rain wash away our germs
And cleanse our lives?
I wonder this, but I don’t ask.
Time goes from present to past.
-Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind