March 8, 2010

Pam Small (Spokane, WA) sent this prayer.

Through the Ordinary
- Fr. Pat Twohy, SJ

It is through the ordinary,
through ordinary
eyes and hands,
through our flesh and blood
and the flesh and blood
of our children,
that a Great Power
comes into the world.
Through simple lives,
humble and forgotten,
the Spirit races
through the world
touching everyone,
touching everything
with a sovereign dignity,
with a forgetfulness of self,
surrounding all with
an incomprehensible silence
that, for those who hear,
becomes the sound
of spirits singing.
And it does not matter
whether we move forward
or backward in time,
flesh and blood are there,
and the Silence,
and this immense Song
which we, too, can sing
if only we allow it
to enter our ordinary bodies
and change us
into something entirely new.

 

March 1. 2010

Love has subjugated me:
By Hadewijch
(13th Century)
English version by Mother Columba Hart

Love has subjugated me:
To me this is no surprise,
For she is strong and I am weak.
She makes me
Unfree of myself,
Continually against my will.
She does with me what she wishes;
Nothing of myself remains to me;
Formerly I was rich,
Now I am poor: everything is lost in love.

 

February 22, 2010

When the Day Came
By Kabir
(15th Century)
English version by Andrew Harvey

When the Day came --
The Day I had lived and died for --
The Day that is not in any calendar --
Clouds heavy with love
Showered me with wild abundance.
Inside me, my soul was drenched.
Around me, even the desert grew green.

 

February 8, 2010

On the Pulse of the Morning
By Maya Angelou
(1928 - )

A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Mark the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.
But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow.
I will give you no hiding place down here.
You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance.
Your mouths spelling words
Armed for slaughter.
The rock cries out today, you may stand on me,
But do not hide your face.
Across the wall of the world,
A river sings a beautiful song,
Come rest here by my side.
Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.
Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.
Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more.
Come, clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I
And the tree and stone were one.
Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your brow
And when you yet knew you still
Knew nothing.
The river sings and sings on.
There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing river and the wise rock.
So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew,
The African and Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek,
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the teacher.
They hear. They all hear
The speaking of the tree.
Today, the first and last of every tree
Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the river.
Plant yourself beside me, here beside the river.
Each of you, descendant of some passed on
Traveller, has been paid for.
You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache and Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers--desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.
You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot...
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru,
Bought, sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.
Here, root yourselves beside me.
I am the tree planted by the river,
Which will not be moved.
I, the rock, I the river, I the tree
I am yours--your passages have been paid.
Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.
History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, and if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.
Lift up your eyes upon
The day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream.
Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.
Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts.
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.
The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.
No less to Midas than the mendicant.
No less to you now than the mastodon then.
Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.

 

February 1, 2010

Sue Smith (Ashland, WI) sent this prayer.

The Knots of Prayer
Author Unknown

Dear God,
Please untie the knots that are in my mind, my heart and my life.
Remove the "nots," the can nots and the do nots that I have in my mind.
Erase the will nots, may nots, might nots that may find a home in my heart.
Release me from the could nots, would nots and should nots that obstruct my life.

And most of all, Dear God,
I ask that you remove from my mind, my heart and my life all the 'am nots' that I have allowed to hold me back,
especially the thought that I am not good enough.
Amen.

 

January 25, 2010

Arlene O'Loughlin (La Crosse, WI) sent this prayer for all those in Haiti.

Thank you Lord
because this morning I woke up and knew where my children were.
because this morning my home was still standing,
because this morning I am not crying because my husband, my child,
my brother or sister needs to be buried out from underneath a pile of concrete,
because this morning I was able to drink a glass of water,
because this morning I was able to turn on the light,
because this morning I was able to take a shower,
because this morning I was not planning a funeral,
but most of all I thank you this morning
because I still have life and a voice to cry out for the people of Haiti.

Lord, I cry out to you, the one that makes the impossible, possible,
the one that turns darkness in to light,
I cry out that you give those mothers strength, that you give them peace that surpasses all understanding,
that you may open the streets so that help can come,
that you may provide doctors, nurses, food, water, and all that they need in a blink of an eye.
For all those that have lost family members,
give them peace, give them hope, give them courage to continue to go on!
Protect the children and shield them with your power.
I pray all this in the name of Jesus.

 

January 4, 2010

Here is a little Mary Oliver to start off the new year. It is a longer poem, but worth the time - as all Mary Oliver is.

Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches?
By Mary Oliver

Have you ever tried to enter the long black branches of other lives --
tried to imagine what the crisp fringes, full of honey, hanging
from the branches of the young locust trees, in early morning, feel like?

Do you think this world was only an entertainment for you?

Never to enter the sea and notice how the water divides
with perfect courtesy, to let you in!
Never to lie down on the grass, as though you were the grass!
Never to leap to the air as you open your wings over the dark acorn of your heart!

No wonder we hear, in your mournful voice, the complaint
that something is missing from your life!

Who can open the door who does not reach for the latch?
Who can travel the miles who does not put one foot
in front of the other, all attentive to what presents itself continually?
Who will behold the inner chamber who has not observed
with admiration, even with rapture, the outer stone?

Well, there is time left --
fields everywhere invite you into them.

And who will care, who will chide you if you wander away
from wherever you are, to look for your soul?

Quickly, then, get up, put on your coat, leave your desk!

To put one's foot into the door of the grass, which is
the mystery, which is death as well as life, and not be afraid!

To set one's foot in the door of death, and be overcome with amazement!

To sit down in front of the weeds, and imagine
god the ten-fingered, sailing out of his house of straw,
nodding this way and that way, to the flowers of the present hour,
to the song falling out of the mockingbird's pink mouth,
to the tippets of the honeysuckle, that have opened
in the night

To sit down, like a weed among weeds, and rustle in the wind!

Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?

While the soul, after all, is only a window,

and the opening of the window no more difficult
than the wakening from a little sleep.

Only last week I went out among the thorns and said
to the wild roses:
deny me not,
but suffer my devotion.
Then, all afternoon, I sat among them. Maybe

I even heard a curl or tow of music, damp and rouge red,
hurrying from their stubby buds, from their delicate watery bodies.

For how long will you continue to listen to those dark shouters,
caution and prudence?
Fall in! Fall in!

A woman standing in the weeds.
A small boat flounders in the deep waves, and what's coming next
is coming with its own heave and grace.

Meanwhile, once in a while, I have chanced, among the quick things,
upon the immutable.
What more could one ask?

And I would touch the faces of the daises,
and I would bow down
to think about it.

That was then, which hasn't ended yet.

Now the sun begins to swing down. Under the peach-light,
I cross the fields and the dunes, I follow the ocean's edge.

I climb, I backtrack.
I float.
I ramble my way home.

December 28, 2009

The Light of Your Way
By Symeon the New Theologian
(949 - 1032)
English version by Ivan M. Granger

Holy are you, O Lord, holy, blessed and One.
Holy are you, and generous
for you have flooded my heart
with the light of your way,
and you have raised up in me
the Tree of Life.

You have shown me a new heaven
upon the earth.
You have shown me a secret Garden,
unseen within the seen.

Now am I joined soul and spirit
present in your Presence --
your Presence that has waited long in me,
your Presence, the true Tree of Life,
planted in whatever this earth is,
planted in whatever it is that men are,
planted, and rooted in the heart,
your Presence all at once revealing your Paradise
alive with every good green thing:
grasses and trees and the fruiting bounty,
a world of flowers!
sweet-scented lilies!

Each little flower speaks a truth:
humility and joy,
peace, oh peace!
kindness, compassion,
the turning of the soul,
and the flood of tears
and the strange ecstasy
of those bathed in your light.

December 21, 2009

Today is the Winter Solstice and the last Monday in Advent. So I thought I would share a little something for each. The first is a solstice poem/prayer. The second is a short Advent reflection. I hope enjoy both.

Solstice Prayer by Edward Hays

Tonight we stand at the Threshold of the feast of Christmas,
the birth of the Son of God

May tonight's celebration be in harmony
with that most holy day of our tradition.
May it help us to truly rejoice
in the birth of the Light of the World.

May this winter solstice celebration
bring us into communion
with all those who prepare to celebrate
the feast of the Nativity of Jesus Christ.
May we also be in communion
with our Jewish brothers and sisters
who in this time of darkness
celebrate their holy feast of light, Hanukkah.

Amen, let there be light!


An Advent Relefection by Sallie Latkovich, CSJ

The mention of Advent always stirs thoughts of waiting . . . waiting for Christmas. We Theologians always speak of reflecting on the three ways of Christ's coming: in history in Bethlehem, in the daily events of our lives, and the second coming in the future.

I've been thinking that we've got it all wrong. We need not wait for God. God is always present, always with us. That's what the name Emmanuel means: God-with-us. And, that's the primary truth we hear in the Scriptures. God created us, and calls us into relationship. God is indeed present with us, and especially in the person of Jesus the Christ.

No, this Advent, I've come to see that it's GOD who waits for US. . .

. . . waits for us to notice that we are indeed created by God. We are born with unique gifts and qualities as well as deficiencies and lack of qualities. God only sees our goodness, and waits for us to notice too.

. . . waits for us to notice the myriad ways in which God is with us, always. We know the Creator in the beauty and amazing capacities of creation, both earth and human. We know the Creator when we experience love. We know the Creator when we cannot explain or understand mystery.

. . . waits for us to notice when we observe people acting in the image of God: in covenant with one another, both those known and unknown, both those alike and those very different.

. . . waits for us to notice the emptiness in our hearts that can only be filled by God's own Self.

. . . in the season of Advent, as Christmas approaches, God waits for us to notice the wonder and innocence of little children. How God must long for us grownups to be more like them, without guile.

It is true that in Advent we wait; but really, it is God who waits for us. May we savor and revel in that reality.

 

December 14, 2009

Blessings. I found this reflection/prayer on the Third Sunday of Advent on "Praying Advent" webpage sponsored by Creighton University. Enjoy!

Our week begins with "Gaudete Sunday." Gaudete means "rejoice" in Latin. It comes from the first word of the Entrance antiphon on Sunday. The spirit of joy that begins this week comes from the words of Paul, "The Lord is near." This joyful spirit is marked by the third candle of our Advent wreath, which is rose colored, and the rose-colored vestments often used at the Eucharist.

The second part of Advent begins on December 17th each year - this year, in 2009, it is Thursday of the Third Week of Advent. For the last eight days before Christmas, the plan of the readings changes. The first readings are still from the prophesies, but now the Gospels are from the infancy narratives of Matthew and Luke. We read the stories of faithful women and men who prepared the way for our salvation. We enter into the story of how Jesus' life began. These stories are filled with hints of what his life will mean for us. Faith and generosity overcome impossibility. Poverty and persecution reveal glory.

We prepare this week by feeling the joy. We move through this week feeling a part of the waiting world that rejoices because our longing has prepared us to believe the reign of God is close at hand. And so we consciously ask:

Prepare our hearts
and remove the sadness
that hinders us from feeling
the joy and hope
which his presence
will bestow.

Amen.

 

November 30, 2009

Love beyond all telling By Jacopone da Todi (Jacopone Benedetti)
(1230 - 1306)
English version by Serge and Elizabeth Hughes

Love beyond all telling,
Goodness beyond imagining,
Light of infinite intensity
Glows in my heart.
I once thought that reason
Had led me to You,
And that through feeling
I sensed Your presence,
Caught a glimpse of You in similitudes,
Knew You in Your perfection.
I know now that I was wrong,
That that truth was flawed.
Light beyond metaphor,
Why did You deign to come into this darkness?
Your light does not illumine those who think they see You
And believe they sound Your depths.
Night, I know now, is day,
Virtue no more to be found.
He who witnesses Your splendor
Can never describe it.
On achieving their desired end
Human powers cease to function,
And the soul sees that what it thought was right
Was wrong. A new exchange occurs
At that point where all light disappears;
A new and unsought state is needed:
The soul has what it did not love,
And is stripped of all it possessed, no matter how dear.
In God the spiritual faculties
Come to their desired end,
Lose all sense of self and self-consciousness,
And are swept into infinity.
The soul, made new again,
Marveling to find itself
In that immensity, drowns.
How this comes about it does not know.

 

November 16, 2009

Love has subjugated me:
By Hadewijch
(13th Century)
English version by Mother Columba Hart

Love has subjugated me:
To me this is no surprise,
For she is strong and I am weak.
She makes me
Unfree of myself,
Continually against my will.
She does with me what she wishes;
Nothing of myself remains to me;
Formerly I was rich,
Now I am poor: everything is lost in love.

November 9, 2009

Arlene O'Loughlin (La Crosse, WI) sent this prayer.

LORD, FORGIVE ME WHEN I WHINE
Author unknown

Today, upon the bus, I saw a lovely girl with golden hair, I envied her-she seemed so gay. When she rose to leave, I saw her hobble down the aisle. She had one leg, and used a crutch, But as she passed, she smiled.

Oh, God, forgive me when I whine.
I have two legs. The world is mine.

I stopped to buy some candy. The lad who sold it had such charm. I talked with him. He seemed so glad. And as I left he said to me. "I thank You. You have been so kind. It's nice to talk with folks like you. You see he said I'm blind.

Oh God forgive me when I whine.
I have two eyes and the world is mine!

Later, while walking down the street, I saw a child with eyes of blue. He stood and watched the others at play. I stopped a moment, then I said, "Why don't you join the others, dear?" He looked straight ahead without a word, and then I knew he couldn't hear.

Oh God forgive me when I whine.
I have two ears; the world is mine!

With feet to take me where I want to go, with eyes to see the sunset's glow, with ears to hear what I would know------

Oh God, forgive me when I whine.
I'm blessed, indeed the world is mine!

November 2, 2009

All things
By Hadewijch
(13th Century)
English version by Jane Hirshfield

All things
are too small
to hold me,
I am so vast
In the Infinite
I reach
for the Uncreated
I have
touched it,
it undoes me
wider than wide
Everything else
is too narrow
You know this well,
you who are also there

 

October 26, 2009

Bernadette Murray (Las Vegas, NV) sent this prayer.

Just A Little Prayer

God is ever there for those
Who really, really care,
He helps dispel your cares and woes
With just a little prayer.
Invite the Lord into your heart,
He has much love to spare,
A love He gladly would impart
With just a little prayer.
Let Him know when things go wrong,
No matter when or where.
He can fill your heart with song
With just a little prayer.
It matters not your race or creed,
God does not compare.
He can fill your wants and needs
With just a little prayer.
No power on earth can give to man
God's immortal blessings rare.
He is the only One who can
With just a little prayer.

Poet, Joseph Ferrara

October 19, 2009

When the Day Came
By Kabir
(15th Century)
English version by Andrew Harvey

When the Day came --
The Day I had lived and died for --
The Day that is not in any calendar --
Clouds heavy with love
Showered me with wild abundance.
Inside me, my soul was drenched.
Around me, even the desert grew green.

 

October 12, 2009
A Pilgrim’s Companion Psalm
By Ed Hays
Created Oct. 7, 2009

The road home, O God, seems long
and at times is difficult and painful.

Grant me a holy communion, a compani9onship with others,
as I journey homeward to you.

I live in times of great trial:
an age of change sits at my door.

 

October 5, 2009

This is a prayer that we used during the Transitus on Saturday evening. Thought it would be perfect for today.

Canticle of Fraternity

Praise be You, My Lord, though Sister Brokenness who reveals to us your healing and your wholeness.
She is tender and fragile and invites us to share our poverty with one another.

Praise be You, My Lord, through Sister Forgiveness who reveals your unconditional love and tender mercy.
She is gentle and asks for your poverty of spirit as she seeks to be both given and freely received in fraternity.

Praise be You, My Lord, through Brother Conversion who reveals your radical Gospel call and the heart of the paschal mystery.
He is violent and requires uprooting, letting go, emptying and comes to us through self-emptying fraternal experiences.
He is a mirror of true Eucharist.

Praise be You, My Lord, through Sister Joy who reveals your fullness and the life of your Trinitarian love.
She is carefree. She is loving. She is genuine. She is beatitude.
She is gift coming from you through sharing Your presence with another.

Most High, all powerful and good Lord,
Yours are brokenness, forgiveness, conversion, and joy.
We praise and bless You, Lord, and give You thanks for fraternity.
All praise be yours, O Lord.

September 28, 2009

Flannery's Angel
by Charles Wright

Lead us to those we are waiting for,
Those who are waiting for us.
May your wings protect us,
may we not be strangers in the lush province of joy.
Remember us who are weak,
You who are strong in your country which lies beyond the thunder,
Raphael, angel of happy meeting,
resplendent, hawk of the light.

"Flannery's Angel" by Charles Wright, from Sestets: Poems.

 

September 21, 2009

A Plea For Mercy
by Anne Porter

When I am brought before the Lord
What can I say to him
How plead for mercy?
I'll say I loved
My husband and the five
Children we had together
Though I was most unworthy
I'll say I loved
The summer mornings
I loved the way the sun comes up
And sets the dew on fire
I loved the way
The cobwebs shine
On the tall grass
When they are strung with dew
I'll say I loved
The way that little bird
The titmouse flies
I'll say I loved
Its lightness
Lilt
And beauty.

September 14, 2009

[324] Some keep the Sabbath going to the Church
By Emily Dickinson
(1830 - 1886)

Some keep the Sabbath going to the Church
I keep it, staying at Home
With a Bobolink for a Chorister
And an Orchard, for a Dome
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice
I just wear my Wings
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton sings.
God preaches, a noted Clergyman
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last
I'm going, all along.

September 8, 2009

To learn the scriptures is easy
By Lalla (Lal Ded)
(14th Century)
English version by Coleman Barks

To learn the scriptures is easy,
to live them, hard.
The search for the Real
is no simple matter.

Deep in my looking,
the last words vanished.
Joyous and silent,
the waking that met me there.

 

August 31, 2009

Here is a prayer about what interior peace.

Pax
By D. H. Lawrence
(1885 - 1930)

All that matters is to be at one with the living God
to be a creature in the house of the God of Life.

Like a cat asleep on a chair
at peace, in peace
and at one with the master of the house, with the mistress,
at home, at home in the house of the living,
sleeping on the hearth, and yawning before the fire.

Sleeping on the hearth of the living world
yawning at home before the fire of life
feeling the presence of the living God
like a great reassurance
a deep calm in the heart
a presence
as of the master sitting at the board
in his own and greater being,
in the house of life.

August 24, 2009

Happy Monday. Our prayer is a poem by Mary Oliver. It is called "In Blackwater Woods" from American Primitive.

In Blackwater Woods
by Mary Oliver

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars
of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,
the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders
of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned
in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side
is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

 

August 17, 2009

Joan Meeder (Three Lakes, WI) sent this prayer. It is from the song "Eternal Love" by Chris Christensen

from "Eternal Love"
-Chris Christensen

You are my shepherd
I will not be afraid
You make me dwell in peace
You are my light
And the Lord of my journey
Your rod and Your staff
Comfort me
So I'll sing in the valley
Shout from the mountain
Drink from the river
Dance in the fountain
Of Your everlasting life
And Your eternal love.

 

August 3, 2009

My soul is your temple, O Lord (from Shiva Manasa Pooja)
By Shankara
(788 - 820)
English version by P. R. Ramachander (reworked by Ivan M. Granger)

My soul is your temple, O Lord,
My actions are your handmaids,
My body is your home,
My senses witness only you,
My sleep is pure meditation on you,
These walking feet are your journey,
Whatever falls from my mouth is prayer to you,
Oh Lord, everything I say and do are worship.

 

July 13, 2009

The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, (from Ode. Intimations of Immortality)
By William Wordsworth
(1770 - 1850)

The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home.

July 6, 2009

This is a prayer from our beloved Clare to her beloved.

St. Clare of Assisi:

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.

 

June 22, 2009

A fish cannot drown in water,
By Mechthild of Magdeburg
(1207 - 1297)
English version by Jane Hirshfield

A fish cannot drown in water,
A bird does not fall in air.
In the fire of creation,
God doesn't vanish:
The fire brightens.
Each creature God made
must live in its own true nature;
How could I resist my nature,
That lives for oneness with God?

June 8, 2009

He dwells not only in temples and mosques --
By Sarmad
(? - 1659)
English version by Isaac A. Ezekiel

He dwells not only in temples and mosques --
The whole creation is his abode.
The whole world is bewitched by his tale,
but wise are those who are lost in his love.

 

June 1, 2009

This is a prayer Joe Nangle used at the Affiliate and Sister Intercongregational gathering in Sinsinawa, WI, in April. It is a good one.

A Franciscan Christmas Blessing for Justice and Peace
(Source unknown)

May God Bless you with discomfort…
at easy answers, hard hearts,
half-truths, and superficial relationships.
May God Bless you so that you may live
from deep within your heart
where God’s Spirit dwells.

May God Bless you with anger…
at injustice, oppression
and exploitation of people.
May God Bless you so that you may
work for justice,
freedom, and peace.

May God Bless you with tears…
so shed for those who suffer in pain,
rejection, starvation and war,
May God Bless you so that you
may reach out your hand
to comfort them and turn
their pain into joy.

And may God Bless you with
enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference
in this world, in your neighborhood,
so that you will courageously try
what you don’t think you can do, but,
in Jesus Christ you’ll have all
The strength necessary.

May God Bless you to fearlessly
speak out about injustice,
unjust laws, corrupt politicians,
unjust and cruel treatment of prisoners,
and senseless wars,
genocides, starvations,
and poverty that is pervasive.

May God Bless you that you remember
we are called
to continue God’s redemptive work
of love and healing
in God’s place, in and through God’s name,
in God’s Spirit, continually creating
and breathing new life and grace
into everything and everyone we touch.

 

May 26, 2009

When the desire for the Friend became real
by Abu-Said Abil-Kheir (967 - 1049)
English version by Vraje Abramian

When the desire for the Friend became real,
all existence fell behind.
The Beloved wasn't interested in my reasoning,
I threw it away and became silent.
The sanity I had been taught became a bore,
it had to be ushered off.
Insane, silent and in bliss,
I spend my days with my head
at the feet of My Beloved.

 

May 18, 2009

The Praises of God
By Francis of Assisi
(1181 - 1226)
English version by Regis J. Armstrong, OFM CAP & Ignatius C. Brady, OFM

You are holy, Lord, the only God, You do wonders.
You are strong, You are great, You are the most high,
You are the almighty King.
You, Holy Father, the King of heaven and earth.
You are Three and One, Lord God of gods;
You are good, all good, the highest good,
Lord, God, living and true.
You are love, charity.
You are wisdom; You are humility; You are patience;
You are beauty; You are meekness; You are security;
You are inner peace; You are joy; You are our hope and joy;
You are justice; You are moderation, You are all our riches.
You are beauty, You are meekness;
You are the protector,
You are the guardian and defender;
You are strength; You are refreshment.
You are our hope, You are our faith, You are our charity,
You are all our sweetness,
You are our eternal life:
Great and wonderful Lord,
God almighty, Merciful Savior.

 

May 11, 2009

O nobilissima viriditas / Responsory for Virgins
By Hildegard of Bingen
(1098 - 1179)
English version by Barbara Newman

Most noble
evergreen with your roots
in the sun:
you shine in the cloudless
sky of a sphere no earthly
eminence can grasp,
enfolded in the clasp
of ministries divine.
You blush like the dawn,
you burn like a flame
of the sun.

May 4, 2009

Happy Monday morning.

O Sweet Irrational Worship
By Thomas Merton
(1915 - 1968)

Wind and a bobwhite
And the afternoon sun.
By ceasing to question the sun
I have become light,
Bird and wind.
My leaves sing.
I am earth, earth
All these lighted things
Grow from my heart.
A tall, spare pine
Stands like the initial of my first
Name when I had one.
When I had a spirit,
When I was on fire
When this valley was
Made out of fresh air
You spoke my name
In naming Your silence:
O sweet, irrational worship!
I am earth, earth
My heart's love
Bursts with hay and flowers.
I am a lake of blue air
In which my own appointed place
Field and valley
Stand reflected.
I am earth, earth
Out of my grass heart
Rises the bobwhite.
Out of my nameless weeds
His foolish worship.

April 28, 2009

Taken
By Dorothy Walters
(1928 - )

First, you must let your heart
be broken open
in a way you have never
felt before,
cannot imagine.

You will
not know if what you are
feeling
is anguish or joy,
something predestined
or merely old wounds
flowing once more,
reminders of all that is
unfinished in your life.

Something will flood into
your chest
like air sweetened by
desert honeysuckle,
love that is too
strong.

You will stand there,
very still,
not seeing what this is.
Later, you will not remember
any of this
until the next time
when you will say,
yes, yes, I have known this before,
it has come again,
just as your eyes fold under
once more.

 

April 20, 2009

Beloved, what do you want of me?
By Marguerite Porete
(1260? - 1310)
English version by Peter Drunke

Beloved, what do you want of me?
I contain all that was, and that is, and shall be,
I am filled with the all.
Take of me all you please --
if you want all of myself, I’ll not say no.
Tell me, beloved, what you want of me --
I am Love, who am filled with the all:
what you want,
we want, beloved --
tell us your desire nakedly

 

April 6, 2009

It was windy this morning as I came to work. It made me think of this prayer.

Sometimes
By Ojibway (Anonymous)
(19th Century)
English version by Robert Bly and Frances Densmore

Sometimes I go about pitying myself,
and all the time
I am being carried on great winds across the sky.

 

March 23, 2009

Here is a beautiful prayer from Thomas Merton.

Song for Nobody
By Thomas Merton
(1915 - 1968)

A yellow flower
(Light and spirit)
Sings by itself
For nobody.

A golden spirit
(Light and emptiness)
Sings without a word
By itself.

Let no one touch this gentle sun
In whose dark eye
Someone is awake.

(No light, no gold, no name, no color
And no thought:
O, wide awake!)

A golden heaven
Sings by itself
A song to nobody.

 

March 2, 2009

Here is a prayer/poem by Mary Oliver. It is called "Praying" and one of my personal intentions this Lent.

Praying
By Mary Oliver
(1935 - )

It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.