Tag Archives: strength

Atlas

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The earth, it was said, 
Rested upon the back
Of a giant turtle. 

That turtle, in turn, 
Rested upon another,
And another,
And another -
Turtles all the way down.

Others said it rested 
Upon a succession of elephants.
For others, it was 
The shoulders of Atlas
That held it firm. 

But, of course, 
Now we know better. 
It is held by myriad attractions
And by movement.

And my own particular world
Is held by its own attractions,
And repulsions, 
And mutual beliefs and stories. 

We tell ourselves
That there is such a thing
As corporation, or school, or alliance
Or country.
We build walls around that idea -
Actual walls of brick and mortar
Or even steel. 

We think those walls will hold it firm. 
For they rest upon the earth. 
Which rests, of course, 
Upon a giant turtle.

Or is it the shoulders of Atlas
That will keep us from falling forever?
Surely there is some strong man
To whom we turn to make it all secure. 

...
I’m grateful that my kids
Watched Ninja Turtles 
Rather than a Mighty Mouse,
Who comes to save the day.

Turtles, seeking wisdom from a rat
Working as a team, finding allies, 
Without a single hero -
It’s the start of a better story.

Not so much turtles 
All the way down
As turtles all around.
Not perfect, 
But a step into a better myth.

photo by Wally Gobetz from Flickr per CC 2.0

prayerful imagination

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angel

Sometimes, when words won’t do,
My imagination opens the way for prayer.
And so I pray for my friend,
That You will comfort her with your Spirit,
That You will cloak her in your grace
And bring healing.

 

 

Here is the prayer of my imagination:

I see my friend lying in her bed, with labored breathing and discomfort in her soul.  And then I see them: around the bed, a circle of angels is holding hands with one another.  They stand so close that their wings touch each other and form a wall, a curtain around the bed.

One angel begins to sing, softly. Her tones are just barely audible.  The tune, a soothing melody of hope and love, begins to flow from one angel to the other across the circle and around it until it is almost as if they have woven a canopy of song above her bed.  They continue their singing and the canopy grows more substantial, revealing intricate patterns of color and light, of texture and depth.

At a signal from one of the angels, they all soften and lower their voices and the canopy itself is lowered until it covers my friend like a blanket.  The touch of it seems to ease her breathing and soften some of the lines upon her face. She sighs in momentary respite from her pain.

They continue their melody and the blanket enfolds her more closely and then begins to melt into her very frame.  Its melody makes its way into her flesh, into her weary body and brings hope and peace. They sing until all of the blanket has dissolved in this way; all of its healing strength is now within her.

Then a single angel smiles at the others in thanks and they leave. All but that one angel. She takes her position at the head of the bed, watching my friend, holding her steady. She will remain.

Amen

[photo by Bernard Healy per cc 2.0]