January 30, 2012

Here is a poem called "The Task" by Jane Hirshfield.

The Task
By Jane Hirshfield

It is a simple garment, this slipped-on world.
We wake into it daily -- open eyes, braid hair --
a robe unfurled
in rose-silk flowering, then laid bare.

And yes, it is a simple enough task
we've taken on,
though also vast:
from dusk to dawn,

from dawn to dusk, to praise, and not
be blinded by the praising.
To lie like a cat in hot
sun, fur fully blazing,

and dream the mouse;
and to keep too the mouse's patient, waking watch
within the deep rooms of the house,
where the leaf-flocked

sunlight never reaches, but the earth still blooms.

 

January 23, 2012

The Pathway Finally Opened
By Mahsati Ganjavi (12th Century)
English version by David and Sabrineh Fideler

When my heart came to rule
in the world of love,
it was freed
from both belief
and from disbelief.
On this journey,
I found the problem
to be myself.
When I went beyond myself,
the pathway finally opened.

 

January 16, 2012

Psalm 15

Lord, who can be trusted with power,
and who may act in your place?
Those with a passion for justice,
who speak the truth from their hearts;
who have let go of selfish interests
and grown beyond their own lives;
who see the wretched as their family
and the poor as their flesh and blood.
They alone are impartial
and worthy of the people's trust.
Their compassion lights up the whole earth,
and their kindness endures forever.

(A Book of Psalms, translations by Stephen Mitchell)

 

January 9, 2012

Therese Washburn (Viroqua, WI) sent this prayer.

May today there be peace within.
May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others.
May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content with yourself just the way you are.

Let this knowledge settle into our bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.

 

January 2, 2012

Happy New Year!
As I often think of this time of year as an opportunity for reflection, here is a reflective poem by Rilke.

Book of Hours I, 18
Ranier Maria Rilke

Why am I reaching again for the brushes?
When I paint your portrait, God,
nothing happens.

But I can choose to feel you.

At my senses' horizon
you appear hesitantly,
like scattered islands.

Yet standing here, peering out,
I'm all the time seen by you.

The choruses of angels use up all of heaven.
There's no more room for you
in all that glory. You're living
in your very last house.

All creation holds its breath, listening within me,
because, to hear you, I keep silent.

 

December 19, 2011

Joan Meeder (Three Lakes, WI) sent this prayer and quote.

The Heartfelt Christmas Tree
from the Holy Family Parish (Woodruff, WI) bulletin

There is a special Christmas tree
That lives within the heart.
It isn't pine and can't be bought
at any store or mart.
Each branch holds some fond memory
of joyful Christmas cheer.
Reminding us of those we love
and always will hold dear.
The gifts beneath this Christmas tree
are stacked very high
With kindly deeds of thoughtfulness
that one could never buy.
The Heartfelt Christmas tree expands
through each passing year
With lovely gifts and blessings
having come from far and near.
Atop this tree a star shines bright
while angels sing God's praise;
Rejoice! The Christ-child's love is shared
and blesses ALL our days.

"The traditional Christmas tree is a very ancient custom which exalts the value of life, as in winter the evergreen becomes a sign of undying life . . . . It reminds us of the 'tree of life' (Genesis 2:9) and is a representation of Christ, God's supreme gift to humanity.

The message of the Christmas tree, therefore, is that life is 'ever green' if one gives: not so much material things, but of oneself - in friendship and sincere affection, and fraternal help and forgiveness, in shared time and reciprocal listening."

-Pope John Paul II

 

December 12, 2011

A Prayer
by Max Ehrman

Let me do my work each day;
and if the darkened hours
of despair overcome me, may I
not forget the strength
that comforted me in the
desolation of other times.

May I still remember the bright
hours that found me walking
over the silent hills of my
childhood, or dreaming on the
margin of a quiet river,
when a light glowed within me,
and I promised my early God
to have courage amid the
tempests of the changing years.

Spare me from bitterness
and from the sharp passions of
unguarded moments. May
I not forget that poverty and
riches are of the spirit.
Though the world knows me not,
may my thoughts and actions
be such as shall keep me friendly
with myself.

Lift up my eyes
from the earth, and let me not
forget the uses of the stars.
Forbid that I should judge others
lest I condemn myself.
Let me not follow the clamor of
the world, but walk calmly
in my path.

Give me a few friends
who will love me for what
I am; and keep ever burning
before my vagrant steps
the kindly light of hope.

And though age and infirmity
overtake me, and I come not within
sight of the castle of my dreams,
teach me still to be thankful
for life, and for time's olden
memories that are good and
sweet; and may the evening's
twilight find me gentle still.

 

December 5, 2011

Wild Geese
By Mary Oliver
(1935 - )

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

 

November 29, 2011

Praise Song
by Barbara Crooker

Praise the light of late November,
the thin sunlight that goes deep in the bones.
Praise the crows chattering in the oak trees;
though they are clothed in night, they do not
despair. Praise what little there's left:
the small boats of milkweed pods, husks, hulls,
shells, the architecture of trees. Praise the meadow
of dried weeds: yarrow, goldenrod, chicory,
the remains of summer. Praise the blue sky
that hasn't cracked yet. Praise the sun slipping down
behind the beechnuts, praise the quilt of leaves
that covers the grass: Scarlet Oak, Sweet Gum,
Sugar Maple. Though darkness gathers, praise our crazy
fallen world; it's all we have, and it's never enough.

 

November 21, 2011

i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

~ e.e. cummings ~

 

November 14, 2011

Not Dawdling
by James Broughton

Not dawdling
not doubting
intrepid all the way
walk toward clarity
with sharp eye
With sharpened sword
clearcut the path
to the lucent surprise
of enlightenment
At every crossroad
be prepared to bump into wonder

 

November 7, 2011

look at love
By Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi (1207 - 1273)
English version by Nader Khalili

look at love
how it tangles
with the one fallen in love
look at spirit
how it fuses with earth
giving it new life

why are you so busy
with this or that or good or bad
pay attention to how things blend
why talk about all
the known and the unknown
see how the unknown merges into the known
why think separately
of this life and the next
when one is born from the last
look at your heart and tongue
one feels but deaf and dumb
the other speaks in words and signs
look at water and fire
earth and wind
enemies and friends all at once
the wolf and the lamb
the lion and the deer
far away yet together
look at the unity of this
spring and winter
manifested in the equinox
you too must mingle my friends
since the earth and the sky
are mingled just for you and me
be like sugarcane
sweet yet silent
don't get mixed up with bitter words
my beloved grows right out of my own heart
how much more union can there be

 

October 24, 2011

We awaken in Christ's body
By Symeon the New Theologian (949 - 1032)
English version by Stephen Mitchell

We awaken in Christ's body
as Christ awakens our bodies,
and my poor hand is Christ, He enters
my foot, and is infinitely me.
I move my hand, and wonderfully
my hand becomes Christ, becomes all of Him
(for God is indivisibly
whole, seamless in His Godhood).
I move my foot, and at once
He appears like a flash of lightning.
Do my words seem blasphemous? -- Then
open your heart to Him
and let yourself receive the one
who is opening to you so deeply.
For if we genuinely love Him,
we wake up inside Christ's body
where all our body, all over,
every most hidden part of it,
is realized in joy as Him,
and He makes us, utterly, real,
and everything that is hurt, everything

 

September 6, 2011

John Tully (Oakland, CA) sent this prayer in anticipation for the anniversary of September 11.

FOR OUR WORLD

We need to stop.
Just stop.
Stop for a moment…
Before anybody
Says or does anything
That may hurt anyone else.
We need to be silent.
Just silent.
Silent for a moment…
Before we forever lose
The blessing of songs
That grow in our hearts.
We need to notice.
Just notice.
Notice for a moment…
Before the future slips away
Into ashes and dust of humility.
Stop, be silent, and notice…
In so many ways, we are the same.
Our differences are unique treasures.
We have, we are, a mosaic of gifts
To nurture, to offer, to accept.
We need to be.
Just be.
Be for a moment…
Kind and gentle, innocent and trusting,
Like children and lambs,
Never judging or vengeful
Like the judging and vengeful.
And now, let us pray,
Differently, yet together,
Before there is no earth, no life,
No chance for peace.

Mattie J.T. Stepanek
September 11, 2001

 

 

August 29, 2011

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.
~ Rumi

 

August 23, 2011

IX.
by Wendell Berry

I go by a field where once
I cultivated a few poor crops.
It is now covered with young trees,
for the forest that belongs here
has come back and reclaimed its own.
And I think of all the effort
I have wasted and all the time,
and of how much joy I took
in that failed work and how much
it taught me. For in so failing
I learned something of my place,
something of myself, and now
I welcome back the trees.

 

 

August 15, 2011

Joan Gerhards (Verona, Wis.) was recently on retreat at Marywood and wrote this poem/prayer.

Transfiguration – Transformation

Each morning I rose to meet the rising sun,
to experience with the sense of sight as its
glorious self rose in the sky.

Sometimes through the clouds,
yet radiating its light and warmth
in a path of color across the water.

It speaks to me of gift, awe, glory, hope.
I am reminded of life and spirit that has
been touched in each present moment – the NOW.

An experience of Eucharistic presence came
through God’s nature.
The indelible thumbprint of each person upon my being,
in sharing their journey, vision and wisdom.

I see, hear, feel, touch the spirit in the tall trees
that bend and sway to the breeze and stand majestically.
It is Ruah, the breath of the Spirit flowing gently
into my soul and being.

I walk in a space of communion with God and with
my sisters in Christ,
And take abiding peace to walk with God and St. Francis
amongst all people, being Church, the body of Christ together.


- Joan Gerhards August 6, 2011 Retreat at Marywood

 

 

August 8, 2011

We were enclosed (from Prayer 20)
By Catherine of Siena (1347 - 1380)
English version by Suzanne Noffke, O.P.

We were enclosed,
O eternal Father,
within the garden of your breast.
You drew us out of your holy mind
like a flower
petaled with our soul's three powers,
and into each power
you put the whole plant,
so that they might bear fruit in your garden,
might come back to you
with the fruit you gave them.
And you would come back to the soul,
to fill her with your blessedness.
There the soul dwells --
like the fish in the sea
and the sea in the fish.

 

August 1, 2011

Draw me after You!
By Clare of Assisi (1193? - 1254)
English version by Regis J. Armstrong, OFM CAP & Ignatius C. Brady, OFM

Draw me after You!
We will run in the fragrance of Your perfumes,
O heavenly Spouse!
I will run and not tire,
until You bring me into the wine-cellar,
until Your left hand is under my head
and Your right hand will embrace me happily
and You will kiss me with the happiest kiss of Your mouth.

 

July 25, 2011

Beginners
By Denise Levertov (1923 - 1997)
Dedicated to the memory of Karen Silkwood and Eliot Gralla

"From too much love of living,
Hope and desire set free,
Even the weariest river
Winds somewhere to the sea--"

But we have only begun
To love the earth.
We have only begun
To imagine the fullness of life.
How could we tire of hope?
-- so much is in bud.
How can desire fail?
-- we have only begun
to imagine justice and mercy,
only begun to envision
how it might be
to live as siblings with beast and flower,
not as oppressors.
Surely our river
cannot already be hastening
into the sea of nonbeing?
Surely it cannot
drag, in the silt,
all that is innocent?
Not yet, not yet--
there is too much broken
that must be mended,
too much hurt we have done to each other
that cannot yet be forgiven.
We have only begun to know
the power that is in us if we would join
our solitudes in the communion of struggle.
So much is unfolding that must
complete its gesture,
so much is in bud.

 

 

July 18, 2011

Tammy Barthels (Wausau, WI) sent this prayer/poem.

Bridegroom
(by Christopher Idle)

You set your heart on my soul
And woo me into fuller relationship.
You stand at the altar of my life
In hope of a total commitment
To the faithful love you propose.
My heart see-saws in response.
Going toward. Returning back.
Hesitant to truly give you my all.
Thank you for patiently waiting
As I struggle with a complete "yes."

 

July 11, 2011

"On Prayer"
by Czeslaw Milosz

You ask me how to pray to someone who is not.
All I know is that prayer constructs a velvet bridge
And walking it we are aloft, as on a springboard,
Above landscapes the color of ripe gold
Transformed by a magic stopping of the sun.
That bridge leads to the shore of Reversal
Where everything is just the opposite and the word 'is'
Unveils a meaning we hardly envisioned.
Notice: I say we; there, every one, separately,
Feels compassion for others entangled in the flesh
And knows that if there is no other shore
We will walk that aerial bridge all the same.

 

 

July 5, 2011

I HAVE COME INTO THIS WORLD TO SEE THIS
~ Hafiz ~

I have come into this world to see this:
the sword drop from men's hands even at the height
of their arc of anger

because we have finally realized there is just one flesh to wound
and it is His - the Christ's, our
Beloved's.

I have come into this world to see this: all creatures hold hands as
we pass through this miraculous existence we share on the way
to even a greater being of soul,

a being of just ecstatic light, forever entwined and at play
with Him.

I have come into this world to hear this:

every song the earth has sung since it was conceived in
the Divine's womb and began spinning from
His wish,

every song by wing and fin and hoof,
every song by hill and field and tree and woman and child,
every song of stream and rock,

every song of tool and lyre and flute,
every song of gold and emerald
and fire,

every song the heart should cry with magnificent dignity
to know itself as
God:

for all other knowledge will leave us again in want and aching -only imbibing the glorious Sun
will complete us.

I have come into this world to experience this:

men so true to love
they would rather die before speaking
an unkind
word,
men so true their lives are His covenant -the promise of
hope.

I have come into this world to see this:
the sword drop from men's hands
even at the height of
their arc of
rage

because we have finally realized
there is just one flesh

we can wound.

 

June 29, 2011

A Morning Offering
By John O'Donohue
(1956 - 2008)

I bless the night that nourished my heart
To set the ghosts of longing free
Into the flow and figure of dream
That went to harvest from the dark
Bread for the hunger no one sees.
All that is eternal in me
Welcome the wonder of this day,
The field of brightness it creates
Offering time for each thing
To arise and illuminate.
I place on the altar of dawn:
The quiet loyalty of breath,
The tent of thought where I shelter,
Wave of desire I am shore to
And all beauty drawn to the eye.
May my mind come alive today
To the invisible geography
That invites me to new frontiers,
To break the dead shell of yesterdays,
To risk being disturbed and changed.
May I have the courage today
To live the life that I would love,
To postpone my dream no longer
But do at last what I came here for
And waste my heart on fear no more.

 

June 13, 2011

This was written by John Barrow (Indianapolis, IN).

Love Take Off
November 2009
John Barrow

Love take off.
Take off my eyes looking around for you,
So I’ll see more clearly you’re right here.

Love take off.
Take off what sniffs for shades of right and wrong, good and bad,
So I smell only bleach and fire, and follow it to you.

Love take off.
Take off my tapping, touching, reaching-while-not-grasping fingers,
So I won’t pretend to grasp more than I do.

Take off, Love.
Take off my sneaking-and-trying self,
My lying, image-managing self.

Those parts gone, I’ll more completely follow You.

 

May 31, 2011

Joan Meeder (Three Lakes, WI) sent this poem.

Bhagavad Gita (Song of the Lord)
translated by Sir Edwin Arnold

He is within all beings--and without--
Motionless, yet still moving; not discerned
For subtlety of instant presence; close
To all, to each; yet measurelessly far!
Not manifold, and yet subsisting still
In all which lives; for ever to be known
As the Sustainer, yet, at the End of Times,
He maketh all to end--and re-creates.
The Light of Lights He is, in the heart of the Dark
Shining eternally. Wisdom He is
And Wisdom's way, and Guide of all the wise,
Planted in every heart.

 

May 23, 2011

Christ’s Prayer
Adapted from the original Aramaic
By CSSherin

I AM Presence, Source of the breath of Life and Love -
Divine Presence of all dimensions of sound, light and vibration -
May your light shine from within us brilliantly for all Life, for Infinite Good.
Your Heavenly Kingdom is here.
May your Will be manifest in all life – for all levels of Being in the Universe,
and on Earth.
Give us true wisdom for our daily needs, and
detach any unhealthy cords that bind us, as we detach binding cords from others.
May we let go of all that distracts us, and be free from all that would keep us from our true purpose.
For from You comes the Power, Strength of right action and the ecstatic Song - bringing joyous renewal, now and forever.

Resolved in trust, faith and truth with my whole being - It is so.

 

May 16, 2011

may my heart always be open to little
birds who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old

may my mind stroll about hungry
and fearless and thirsty and supple
and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young

and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly
there's never been quite such a fool who could fail
pulling all the sky over him with one smile

~ e.e. cummings ~

 

May 9, 2011

Psalm 23
Adaptation by CSSherin

Love is my Shepherd; there is nothing I lack. Love leads me to green pastures; Love leads me beside the still waters. Holy Love restores my soul, and leads me in the paths of righteousness for Love’s sake. Yes, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for you are with me, Holy Love; your rod and staff comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of Love forever.

 

May 2, 2011

This morning's poem/prayer was sent by Chandra Sherin (La Crosse, WI).

wage peace
by judyth hill
september 12, 2001

Wage peace with your breath.
Breathe in firemen and rubble,
breathe out whole buildings and flocks of red wing blackbirds.
Breathe in terrorists
and breathe out sleeping children and freshly mown fields.
Breathe in confusion and breathe out maple trees.
Breathe in the fallen and breathe out lifelong friendships intact.
Wage peace with your listening: hearing sirens, pray loud.
Remember your tools: flower seeds, clothes pins, clean rivers.
Make soup.
Play music, memorize the words for thank you in three languages.
Learn to knit, and make a hat.
Think of chaos as dancing raspberries,
imagine grief
as the outbreath of beauty
or the gesture of fish.
Swim for the other side.
Wage peace.
Never has the world seemed so fresh and precious:
Have a cup of tea and rejoice.
Act as if armistice has already arrived.
Celebrate today.

 

April 26, 2011

The Word Most Precious
By Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel
(1907 - 1972)
English version by Rabbi Zalman M. Schacter-Shalomi

Each single moment greets my life,
A message clear from timelessness.
All names and words recall to me
The word most precious: God!
Pebbles twinkle up like stars,
Silent raindrops echo true,
What all creation echoes too,
My Father, Teacher, word from You.
My All, Your Name is my safe refuge.
Without Your nearness I am naught,
So lonely, saddening, is that thought.
All I possess, is just this word --
If forgetfulness would snatch a name from me
Let it be mine not Thine,
So screams in dread that heart of mine.
With every word I nickname You,
I call you 'Woods' and 'Night' and 'Ah' and 'Yes,'
With all my instants weaving sacred time
A bit of ever-always is my gift to You.
Would that for Eternity
I could celebrate a holiday for You.
Not just a day - a lifetime. Please!
How insignificant my thrift and gift
Of offerings and adoration.
What can my efforts do for You
But this: to wander everywhere and bear
a living witness that shows I care.

 

April 11, 2011

Sabbaths 1985, V
By Wendell Berry

How long does it take to make the woods?
As long as it takes to make the world.
The woods is present as the world is, the presence
of all its past and of all its time to come.
It is always finished, it is always being made, the act
of its making forever greater than the act of its destruction.
It is a part of eternity for its end and beginning
belong to the end and beginning of all things,
the beginning lost in the end, the end in the beginning.
What is the way to the woods, how do you go there?
By climbing up through the six days' field,
kept in all the body's years, the body's
sorrow, weariness, and joy. By passing through
the narrow gate on the far side of that field
where the pasture grass of the body's life gives way
to the high, original standing of the trees.
By coming into the shadow, the shadow
of the grace of the strait way's ending,
the shadow of the mercy of light.
Why must the gate be narrow?
Because you cannot pass beyond it burdened.
To come into the woods you must leave behind
the six days' world, all of it, all of its plans and hopes.
You must come without weapon or tool, alone,
expecting nothing, remembering nothing,
into the ease of sight, the brotherhood of eye and leaf.

 

April 4, 2011

Here is a a lovely prayer/poem for spring to remind us of the warmth of God's love.

in love with the new sun
By Ivan M. Granger
(1969 - )

in love with the new sun
the cherry blossom forgets
the night's frost

 

March 28, 2011

Three Lakota Songs
By Lakota (Anonymous)
(20th Century)
English version by Frances Densmore & Brian Swann

May the sun rise in splendor
May the earth appear in light

A wind
wears
me
Look
It is
sacred

A rainbow hoop
wears
me
Everybody
sees me
coming

 

March 21, 2011

Here is a windy prayer to celebrate spring.

A Poem for the Wind
By Taliesin
(6th Century)
English version by Robert Williams

Guess who it is.
Created before the Flood.
A creature strong,
without flesh, without bone,
without veins, without blood,
without head and without feet.
It will not be older, it will not be younger,
than it was in the beginning.
There will not come from his design
fear or death.
He has no wants
from creatures.
Great God! the sea whitens
when it comes from the beginning.
Great his beauties,
the one that made him.
He in the field, he in the wood,
without hand and without foot.
Without old age, without age.
Without the most jealous destiny
and he is coeval
with the five periods of the five ages.
And also is older,
though there be five hundred thousand years.
And he is as wide
as the face of the earth,
and he was not born,
and he has not been seen.
He on sea, he on land,
he sees not, he is not seen.
He is not sincere,
he will not come when it is wished.
He on land, he on sea,
he is indispensable,
he is unconfined,
he is unequal.
He from four regions,
he will not be according to counsel.
He commences his journey
from above the stone of marble.
He is loud-voiced, he is mute.
He is uncourteous.
He is vehement, he is bold,
when he glances over the land.
He is mute, he is loud-voiced.
He is blustering.
Greatest his banner
on the face of the earth.
He is good, he is bad,
he is not bright,
he is not manifest,
for the sight does not see him.
He is bad, he is good.
He is yonder, he is here,
he will disorder.
He will not repair what he does
and be sinless.
He is wet, he is dry,
he comes frequently
from the heat of the sun and the coldness of the moon.

 

March 14, 2011

Here is a prayer by the mystic Kabir. Following the prayer is a quick announcement.

hiding in this cage
- Kabir (15th Century)
English version by Sushil Rao

hiding in this cage
of visible matter

is the invisible
lifebird

pay attention
to her

she is singing
your song

 

February 28, 2011

Can You Imagine?
By Mary Oliver

For example, what the trees do
not only in lightning storms
or the watery dark of a summer's night
or under the white nets of winter
but now, and now, and now - whenever
we're not looking. Surely you can't imagine
they don't dance, from the root up, wishing
to travel a little, not cramped so much as wanting
a better view, or more sun, or just as avidly
more shade - surely you can't imagine they just
stand there loving every
minute of it, the birds or the emptiness, the dark rings
of the years slowly and without a sound
thickening, and nothing different unless the wind,
and then only in its own mood, comes
to visit, surely you can't imagine
patience, and happiness, like that.

 

February 21, 2011

Here is God's love poem to us.

Song of Songs

I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. As the lily
among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved
among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight,
and his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the
banqueting house, and his banner over me was love...

...The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh leaping upon the
mountains, skipping upon the hills....

...My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair
one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and
gone. The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of
birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The
fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender
grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come
away.

 

February 14, 2011

Love is a lamp of God, I am its moth;
By Seyh Galib
(1757 - 1799)
English version by Bernard Lewis

Love is a lamp of God, I am its moth;
love is a shackle, my heart is its crazy captive.
Since becoming a sharer in the secret of your glance
my heart became a friend of the friend, a stranger to the stranger.
Making no difference between dry piety and endless carouse --
such is the libertine way of the masters of ecstasy.
The black soil of the reveler's world is full of abundance,
the sun of wisdom rises in the tavern jar.
He drinks the wine mingled with poison of the glance of those eyes;
I could be tipsy from the languor of those blue eyes.
Take care, do not neglect that sleeping dagger,
its tale is always the gossip of death.
Galib, enter the secluded palace of pleasure and see its secret,
the wise way of the daughter of the vine is something else.

 

February 7, 2011
The Moon of Your Love
By Muhammad Shirin Maghribi
(1349 - 1406)
English version by David & Sabrineh Fideler

Not a single soul lacks
a pathway to you.
There's no stone,
no flower --
not a single piece of straw --
lacking your existence.
In every particle of the world,
the moon of your love
causes the heart
of each atom to glow.

 

 

January 31, 2011

The love of God, unutterable and perfect
By Dante Alighieri
(1265? - 1321)
English version by Stephen Mitchell

The love of God, unutterable and perfect,
flows into a pure soul the way that light
rushes into a transparent object.
The more love that it finds, the more it gives
itself; so that, as we grow clear and open,
the more complete the joy of heaven is.
And the more souls who resonate together,
the greater the intensity of their love,
and, mirror-like, each soul reflects the other.

 

January 24, 2011

The love of God, unutterable and perfect
By Dante Alighieri
(1265? - 1321)
English version by Stephen Mitchell

The love of God, unutterable and perfect,
flows into a pure soul the way that light
rushes into a transparent object.
The more love that it finds, the more it gives
itself; so that, as we grow clear and open,
the more complete the joy of heaven is.
And the more souls who resonate together,
the greater the intensity of their love,
and, mirror-like, each soul reflects the other.

 

January 17, 2011

Here is a prayer for the New Year written by Joyce Rupp from Out of the Ordinary.

Arise in the New Year
-Joyce Rupp

I arise with amazement at the presence of the Holy One.
I arise with gratitude for life.
I arise with hope that all shall be well.
I arise with courage to meet what will be difficult.
I arise with conviction to do what is life-giving.
I arise with eyes ever alert for beauty.
I arise with openness to great truth.
I arise with desire for continued transformation.
I arise with compassion for the hurting ones in the cosmos.
I arise with grief still settled in my spirit.
I arise with eagerness to write with depth and quality.
I arise with a sense of kinship with all who I love.
I arise with respect as others mentor and deepen my vision.
I arise with determination to make good choices in using my time.
I arise with willingness to help those who will need my care.
I arise with hesitation as I think about pain that may come.
I arise with longing for ever greater inner freedom.
I arise with happiness, knowing I am invited to live life fully.
I arise with love for the Holy One, my Intimate Companion.

Compassionate Companion and Faithful Friend, thank you for the opportunity to walk into another year of life. Help me, help us, to be faithful, to be generous, to be yours.

 

January 10, 2011

Oceans
By Juan Ramon Jimenez
(1881 - 1958)
English version by Robert Bly

I have a feeling that my boat
has struck, down there in the depths,
against a great thing.
And nothing
happens! Nothing...Silence...Waves...
--Nothing happens? Or has everything happened,
and are we standing now, quietly, in the new life?