Bonus Poem: August Prayer
This week’s bonus poem is dedicated to our friends, Laura, Carolyn and Dee. As we all walked through the garden together recently, we came upon a hummingbird moth feeding at the bee balm. I froze, with full-body chills, unable to believe the moth was allowing us to get so close. We all just stood there, watching—praying, I would even say—until it flew away. If you don’t know these creatures, I encourage you to look them up. They appear surreal and otherworldly, astounding in their gentleness, and very much like a smaller version of a hummingbird. Such moments of presence like this are what I live for, when the rest of the world falls away, and I am just there. Doesn’t that feel like a kind of prayer plucked out of the very air?
August Prayer
Not knowing to whom or what I pray,
I pray anyway. Mostly by staying
awake to warm stirrings, small fires
started in the heart from the ashes
of sleep. I see a hummingbird moth
feeding at bee balm, and actual chills
climb my spine. I call his flight
and my watching both a prayer plucked
from the August air, given and received.
I don’t speak a word, both hands
clamped over my mouth, afraid even
the push of my breath will send him
onward and away. But he stays, and
something is answered as he nectars,
intent and satisfied, placing his tiny,
almost animal face among the red petals.
As many of you know, my husband Brad and I are trying to purchase and preserve 100 acres of Vermont farmland that will hopefully become a gathering space for retreats as well as a working organic farm. We are getting close to fulfilling this lifelong dream, and appreciate all of you who have helped us so much along the way. If you feel called, you can donate below to be a part of this vision of this farm, or you can pledge your support by becoming a paid monthly member below. We hope to make this happen soon, and look forward to sharing photos and stories of our journey with all of you!
https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-brad-and-james-save-vermont-farmland-forever
Photo credit: by James Crews & Brad Peacock




“…a prayer plucked from August air….”❤️
Love how you use ‘nectars’ as a verb. A beautiful piece and contemplation, James.