Tonight I pray to the god
of small children and broken toys.
Since it seems as though we are made
in Her image, thank you for the tiny curls
in my daughter’s hair. Blessed is She
who holds those galactic swirls close to her beautiful head,
thanks for letting me run my fingers through them
as we read Goodnight Moon at the end of a long, wrecked day.
Thanks for her little hands with chipped nail polish
and the laughter ebbing from her coral lips.
God of the color pink, god of Dora the Explorer,
Thank you for rain as we begin our journey into sleep,
let the sky fall one drop at a time.
That we can find ourselves
in this unearned sweetness,
to the god of small miracles,
I say, Amen.