An Answered Prayer
By John Herlihy

It happened like an answered prayer,
Although he couldn’t remember praying for this.
The air was cool and crisp on Autumn’s breath.
One tree stood all alone, different from the rest.
In the midst of a carpet of harvest green grasses,
That stretched far beyond sight in all directions.
The wild uncut grasses shivered softly in the wind.
The ring of trees in the distance a garland of color.
Crisp air rode the wind in premonition of winter.
A great weariness spread over him like a blanket.

He knew stars to be there, though not yet appeared.
Time enough to show their face in nighttime display.
A gentle afternoon breeze blended with cricket song.
The cries of whippoorwills rejoined the passing wind.
His pale blue eyes now half closed under weary lids.
An outcrop of an old stone wall surrounded the tree.
The lone tree itself was gnarled, bent, old, but ageless.
A few lingering fruits still clung to its leafless branches.
The apple flesh was soft now and smelled wine-sweet.
He drank some nearby river water that tasted of rain.

Then he fell asleep, ushered into a dreamland of dreams.
A question arose in his mind as if on the wings of eagles.
In the dream, his hands reached out in a plea of prayer.
Apple tree, speak to me from the other side of the moon.
His whole life he had searched; he was a seeker of truth.
Small wonder then, that in his dream, he still questioned.
Speak to me of the greater mysteries, speak to me of God.
The graceful fruit tree gently began to bow in adoration.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the aging apple tree blossomed.