This morning the world prayed before I did

The robin sang cheep-cheep
from the lilac branch

The creek whispered gurgle-gurgle
over patient stones

Leaves applauded with a gentle rustle
and somewhere beyond the hill
a bee hummed its tiny hymn
buzzzz

I smiled at the sacred onomatopoeia
of Your creation
all these sounds
that are somehow more than sounds
each one a small translation
of wonder

The rain does not merely fall
it pitter-patters
The fire does not simply burn
it crackles
The heart does not merely live
it thump-thumps
through joy and sorrow alike

And perhaps prayer itself
has its own hidden onomatopoeia
a sound too deep for words
the quiet ahh
of surrender
the soft hush
of trust
the holy amen
echoing through the chambers
of the soul

So today
before I speak another word
may I listen
For all creation seems determined
to tell Your story

chirping
buzzing
rustling
gurgling
crackling

and praising You
in a thousand whimsical tongues