Pagan Baby
by Byron Hoot

I am a pagan born into 
a preacher's home.  When
I learned to pray, I
offered prayers up and out,
into the sky, into the woods

thinking a prayer here or there

no problem, the praying
the important thing releasing
what was inside, opening
to what would come, brushing
aside the words that wanted
to be said in answer.
Prayers to the sky,
prayers to the woods,
prayers coming from deep
inside, rising, emptying
me, making room for
answers to arrive --
so I learned to pray easily
here and there, answers 
coming likewise.