Thursday, April 13, 2017

Maundy Thursday Musings...


Spent a few hours at one of my favorite places this morning, writing. For some
reason, my creativity seems to find expression when I am away from home,
away from the familiar places I usually inhabit. And, with pen in hand- yes, I
actually put pen to paper, rather than using a computer for creative writing-
I put my feelings down, surprising myself, as usual, with the results, as I
bounced all over the place emotionally. And so, I'm daring to share them with
you, always a risk for a writer, a poet...(deep sigh, gulp, share...)

the wren singing at the top of its voice each morning
tiny wren
mighty voice
daring to sing
    its own sweet song
welcoming the day
daring to be freely,
    fully itself
no holding back
no second guessing
warbling an invitation
to this often-reluctant human-
be yourself!
lift your voice!
be daring!
make the most of it, no matter what

what baggage am I STILL carrying?
You would think, at age 75, that
there would be no more baggage

weighing me down. That the skin in
which I live would be wholly, fully

my own- comfortable, welcome,
fitting well, if a bit sagging and

droopy in places. But sometimes,
a heaviness descends, the dark,

shadowy burden of regret- words said
or unsaid, things done or left undone, a

whole plethora of should-haves, why-
didn't-I, why did I, I wish I had,

as if life offered a do-over and
each day lived were not a day fully gone,

never to return. But, at age 75,
I try to put the baggage down, at

least once in a while. Try to move
away from its overwhelming weight

and dance free in the sunlight of a
new and glorious day, content

to leave the past far behind me, for
the time being, so I can relish and

savor the NOW.

Psalm of thanksgiving
I give thanks, O Grace-Filled One,
   for this new day,
   for flowering trees, for
   singing birds, for
   caring friends, for being here.
I give thanks, O Keeper of Lost Causes,
   for cancer healing,
   for helping hands reaching beyond our borders,
   for the kindness of strangers, for the
   abundant love of friends, for this moment.
I give thanks, O Light of Lights,
   for courageous ones shining light
   into dark places, for those who dare
   to speak hard truths, for all who stand
   and sing and march for justice, for peace.
I give thanks, O Mother of All Creation,
   for sisters and brothers in many places of
   many races, whose faces reflect your own,
   for those with whom I agree and those
   whose disagreement challenges me to listen,
   to open myself, to see and hear with integrity.
I give thanks, O Wisdom,
   for books and teachers, for libraries and
   librarians, for schools and universities, for wise
   and courageous elders, for compassionate leaders
   working for justice, for the gifts of intellect
   and discernment, for love.
I give thanks, O God Beyond My Understanding,
   for life- this life- this day- this hour- this moment. 

living well
"How, then, shall I live?"
A question for the Holy One,
whose name this day is God,
but tomorrow might be Light or Flame or Wisdom.
"How, then, shall I live for
these remaining years whose number I do not know?"

"O, child, why do you ask? The answer
lives inside your heart, your mind- within the deepest
place wherein dwells your fullest self,
         wherein my Spirit dwells. The answer is to live.
   Live fully, each day filled with meaning.
   Live gently, each day filled with compassion.
   Live kindly, each day filled with love.
   Live bravely, each day filled with daring.
   Live broadly, each day filled with laughter.
   Live reverently, each day filled with thanks.
And then, when you reach that day of days
which marks your earthly end,
you'll live yourself into my arms, my light, my heart
But for now, dear child of mine,
                                  just live."

just wondering...
Who is God-
     and where and why?
How is God-
     the whys and wherefores
     of divinity the stuff of
     deep theology- or lightest whimsy...
                           or intriguing mystery.
Only one answer comes to me on this glorious, shining,
blue-skied day.
God/Life/Live is all...the
in, with, and under of existence...
the Holy Ground on which I stand.
     And for today, that is answer enough.

A friend has shared with me her sorrow-
   another friend of hers is dying,
   is very near the end of this earthly trek-
   and my friend is bereft, torn apart by sadness,
   already feeling the emptiness this departing soul will leave
   within her heart and life.
And all I could do that day was
   give a hug- long and deep and warm and
   comforting, I hope...a sign of my shared love
   tinged by the awareness of our intermingled humanity.
              I hope it was enough.

A friend has shared with me her sorrow-
   at the death of a beloved friend,
   a brother of the heart and soul, with family left behind
   to grieve, to feel the very precious loss his absence
   will impart to their lives each day.
And all I could do that day was
   send an electronic message,
   the miles separating us rendering hugs impossible
   but I hope a sign to her of my love, my condolence and
   support, an awareness of our intermingled humanity.
             I hope it was enough.

My son has shared with me his sorrow-
   problems with his stepson which go far beyond
   the usual teen-age stuff, and my son is bereft,
   filled with sadness and a sense of powerlessness
   in the face of a situation far beyond his control.
And all I could do that day was
   listen to his dear voice on the phone, hear the pain
   and sorrow, the anger and frustration...share with him my
  comfort and support and never-ending love, so aware
  as I was of our intermingled humanity.
            I hope it was enough.

                                        Is is ever enough?
How long?
My heart cries out.
My heart cries out in pain.
My heart cries out in pain, O God,
        when I see the photos of the children of Syria
        when I read the stories of immigrants drowned
           in the Mediterranean
        when I hear the news of missiles fired or
           churches bombed.
How long, O Lord,
How long?

My heart cries out.
My heart cries out in pain.
My heart cries out in pain, O God.
        when I learn of young black men shot by police
        when I read parts of this nation's history so long
           denigrated and denied
        when I hear of government plans to deny rights
           to deserving and needy groups of people, my
           own sisters and brothers.
How long, O Lord,
How long?

My heart cries out.
My heart cries out in pain.
My heart cries out in pain, O God.
        when I hear of hungry children in our local schools
        when I see homeless veterans on the streets of our cities
        when I watch my tax dollars being spent unjustly
           while helpful and positive and life-affirming programs
           go unfunded
How long, O Lord,
How long?

My heart cries out.
My heart cries out in pain.
My heart cries out in pain, O God.
                         How long?


  1. All lovely and meaningful to me, thank you for sharing. The tiny Wren is a favorite. I love her loud, beautiful music. You captured her perfectly!

  2. By the way, I've been on the receiving end of your electronic love...and it is enough. Love you, Lovely.