Some mornings
I go to the porch to pray.
Other times
I meet the dawn with poetry
studying the world
from one artist's angle,
and then another.
Occasionally
I pay heed to the bumblebees already at work
their busyness a sharp contrast
to the rabbits nibbling clover,
or the woman sipping coffee.
Then there are the mornings
I close my eyes
shutting out everything
but the sun's warmth on my face,
a golden movie played just for me.
It is tough to say
which of these prayers
draws me closest to God.
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