Prayer begins in the heart, in its opening toward the inner light as would a flower, in wordlessly seeking the warmth of eternal life.
The mind's duty is to attend to the heart in its prayer, to watch over it like a loving mother does a dear child, and to give it full and undivided attention.
The heart, in its pristine state, is already worshiping God. This is its native orientation in which it needs no guidance, even as a plant's roots seek water without instruction.
The "fallen" man, he of the heartless broken mind, seems to require constant guidance - yet is scarcely benefited thereby. It is a fool's task to seek God where He cannot be found - or more precisely, to seek Him in ways by which He cannot be apprehended (for of course God is everywhere).
The heart realizes it has found that Greater Good when the Divine infiltrates all its darkest shadows and most painful wounds. And it realizes it is not alone even in the most poignant suffering - or perhaps especially in the most poignant suffering.
And it seems to the heart that God's wordless voice is saying,
"When all your striving to acquire Me has been abandoned as ineffectual, then - in your acceptance of poverty - you will discover . . .
. . . we have never been apart."