Maundy Thursday Musings...
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
eternally.
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 everywhere...in all...the
in, with, and under of existence...
the Holy Ground on which I stand.
And for today, that is answer enough.
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?
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!
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I've been on the receiving end of your electronic love...and it is enough. Love you, Lovely.
ReplyDelete