May your heart find peace this day.
May you breathe in the holy breath of hope.
May it strengthen your soul and fortify your step.
May you know, deeply know, that you are not alone.
Just for a moment, may you feel the embrace of deepest love,
Circling round your very being, holding you tight.
May you know with deep assurance
That you will never fall,
Except you fall into those arms.
[photo by Demetrios Varoumas per cc 2.0]
The Holy One has need of nothing,
Not even me.
(No great surprise to anyone but me.)
Yet . . . the Holy One desires my love.
It isn’t needed.
It adds nothing to that Holy fullness.
Yet, She yearns for my gift of love.
And when I give it,
And sometimes I do,
I am more.
This dance always seems so unfamiliar
until the very end,
when I know
that I have danced it always.
1/15/01
[photo by Julie Pimentel per cc 2.0]
I peek out the flap of my tent door.
Is there manna again, today?
Yes, there is manna.
I am amazed every morning at the miracle of this gift.
Yet, just before the morning,
I wonder,
Can I dare to hope that it will come again?
This quiet and consistent blessing
Builds my faith one morning at a time.
Here it is, again.
Thank you.
[photo by Ishai Parasol per cc 2.0]
My baby has a baby.
No words today … just wonder
and a grateful heart.
Best I can,
and it ain’t good,
I give myself to you.
To my surprise,
it makes you smile.
Me, too.
Bigger surprise …
you offer me
your very self.
This wild exchange,
you for me – me for you,
is what you seem to want.
A poor bargain
on your part;
my best hope.
Your recreation.
Again and again.
I thank you.
[photo by Adrian Lim per cc 2.0]
I sigh.
I gather myself for a moment’s centering.
I wait upon the edge of quiet
Letting my soul seep in.
Each breath draws in.
Each breath empties out.
The quiet deepens.
I release my fluttering thoughts into the void.
I refuse to ride my thoughts away.
I let them go, without me
And am surprised to see that I remain.
They do not hold the deepest me.
You do.
I do not know why that is a surprise
But I smile as I snuggle down into your lap.
I rest my heart upon your whisper
And turn my cheek to your caress.
Your lullaby is a wordless melody
Sung in the quiet forever
Only audible in stillness
But ever there.
I rouse myself enough to wonder
If my bliss seems boring to the more adventurous souls.
You croon and hold me close
And my heart beats with excitement.
This quiet moment is, indeed, but foreplay …
[the photo is my own]
‘Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free
‘Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come ’round right.
– Joseph Brackett (sung by Jewel)
Holy One
I walk the distance in my soul
The distance from distracted to quiet
The distance from scattered to whole
The distance from me to you.
Too often I forget that you are there
That you already surround and embrace me
That turning, turning,
Places me in your arms, in your quiet
In your delight – and in mine.
Bring me to that turning
Help me touch the quiet
Help me to embrace your simple gifts
Of love and delight
Of connection and deep peace.
I quiet my soul
I turn and lean in just the tiniest bit
And find I am resting my head upon your chest
And feel you wrap your holy spirit ’round me
This … this is home.
Thank you.
Amen.
[photo by Kate Ter Haar per cc 2.0]
Hello
Do you remember me?
I used to come to talk to you most every day,
Leaning across the back fence of your mind,
Picking at the splinters in the rail,
Looking up at the clouds with a cocked eye,
Wondering with you about the rain.
Do you remember
The sweet release of walking across campus on a spring day
When the sun was intense and the breeze cool?
When the sheer joy of being engaged in a project worth doing
Hung playfully in the air
And the energy of shared purpose kept us fully engaged?
Do you remember
When movement felt good?
When arms swinging, backpack singing, legs reaching,
Were part of the joy of the journey?
When the caress of walking through waist-high wildflowers
And their gentle, moist presence
Brought a soul-deep green into your day?
Do you remember
The sleeping child upon your lap
Whose unconscious move to snuggle deeper into comfort
Was also a deep comfort to you?
When the flash of curious question in their eyes
Fed your soul with wonder?
When spontaneous smiles erupted for bugs and stones and anything fuzzy?
Do you remember
The comfort of sitting quietly together
Watching the sunset?
When the palpable sense of belonging to each other
Made words redundant?
Do you remember the touch of love?
Do you remember me?
I still come to talk to you most every day,
I still pick at the fence and look at the clouds.
I do remember. Thank you.
I am grateful, today, for the call to remember the richness of my life.
I am grateful for these whispered memories
For each small glimpse of wonder and connection.
They feed my soul with grace, again,
Just as they did before.
[photo by Bunches and Bits {Karina} per cc 2.0]
These words, whispered in my ear this morning:
Do you see, my little one,
The ribbon of red along the horizon?
Do you feel the rush of mystery,
Touched by the fingers of the sun as it rises?
Do you not know, deep in your soul, that my love for you
Is too deep for hope to be forever lost?
Take heart. Take my heart.
My hope for you will not stay in the tomb.
My hope for this world cannot be contained.
There is no crucible from which it cannot rise.
The depth of pain,
The nails of hate,
Even the denial of friends
Cannot hold the folds of darkness so firmly
That they refuse the new day,
Which is rising, even now.
And so, here is my blessing for you, this Easter morning:
May you rise from the many deaths you have encountered, strong and full and free
For this is the path I have opened for you.
My you hold my light of hope for the world to see.
May your fingers join the sun in searching out the mystery.
May you grasp hope as your talisman, as the abiding assurance of my love
That each day, each day, reaches out to you from the far horizon.
It is time for a resurrection.
Take it into your heart,
That I might live in you
That you might live in this world
And live it into resurrection, too.
[edited from photo by Sean MacEntee per cc 2.0]
[see also DONE! and Done]
Quiet Hope 