Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts

Monday, May 2, 2016

I HAVE BEEN A STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND


















I have been a stranger in a strange land,
where my compass failed and every step was
labored and directionless. I prayed; I listened;
you said, Come out of the shadows. Barely
visible above a silhouetted slope, a gold-red
sliver broke the firmament, restored my
equilibrium, and gave me hope. Because I
asked, you spoke. Because you showed me
heaven’s glorious awakening, I promised, I will
follow you. Before the sun went down, I had
forgotten all of it, and even now, beset by
doubts, I wander off, disoriented, lost. Again
you take my hand and lead me from a
treacherous and twisted path onto a high,
straight, sunlit road. Friends wait, you say,
hospitably at this day’s journey’s end. And so it
is that to my left are shade at noontime and a
place to rest, and to my right, a dozen steps
beyond, fresh water gushes from a spring
between two ancient moss-clad stones. In you
I lack for nothing; I have all I need. With you
beside me, I am not alone. I lean upon your
strength; it never stumbles. Night holds neither
mystery nor terror, though the moon is dark,
the stars dim. At the cusp of morning, redbirds
interrupt the silence with their song, and
poplars and acacias whisper, Carry on—
anticipating dawn.

Amen.


Tuesday, December 1, 2015

Giving Thanks 5 Lines at a Time

THANK GOD! Gratitude poem #5, iambic pentameter, 11-28-2015

GOD GRATITUDE 

It doesn't seem to matter what I call
the Force Divine, the Source of Love, the Guy
or Gal Upstairs, Allah, or Adonai. 
It doesn't matter, when I pray, what Name
I use; it matters only that I do.


*****

THANKFUL FOR VOWELS! Gratitude poem #6, iambic pentameter, 11-29-2015

O GRATITUDE

Thank heaven for the letter O--so that
the Widow Lennon doesn’t have to be
YK N, the play’s not THELL, those trees aren’t AKS... 
and as for me, I’d rather greet a friend
with less extravagance of warmth than “HELL.”


*****


THANKS, MOM AND DAD. Gratitude poem #7, iambic pentameter, 11-30-2015

ETERNAL GRATITUDE

The picture hung above the fireplace
at Mom and Dad's. My grandpa made the frame. 
No fireplace today, no Mom and Dad,
except in the occasional refrain
that echoes, "Wear a hat; it's going to rain."


Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Bless
















 

A Garden of the Heart




Bless, O God, the pure ideas of the heart that come
on sympathetic winds and germinate on fertile ground
within. Help us nurture them; protect them from a
summer day too hot, a storm too violent… and make
them sturdy, to withstand a well-intended cautionary
cropping by a relative or friend who wants us to be
safe and means to spare us disappointment.

Make in each of us a garden well supplied with sun
and rain, and teach us husbandry. May we be strong
and clear of sight, and thus not lightly swayed from
our designs; if we are convinced that you began the
planting as a gift of work and purpose, may we not
abandon it.

How will we know a grand idea from a flight of
fantasy? If heaven-sent, it will be eager and
exuberant. Its fruit will heal the sick or feed the
hungry, shade the weary, school the would-be
wise, or simply yield delight, a place of beauty
radiant with love, a feast for pilgrims’ eyes.

Amen.

Monday, August 31, 2015

Prayer for a Wounded Heart





PRAYER FOR A WOUNDED HEART


Divine Beloved: Prayer is as near to me as breath, and 
as essential to serenity. Among the sages of Aquarius 
and higher planes a few claim such enlightenment they 
find no reason or necessity to pray. They say that in 
creation you gave into our possession a messiah – 
everything required for joy and peace and celebration. 
I believe this, yet today in all my striving I have failed to 
find that placid, eloquently silent place within. My faith 
has been waylaid, and on this unfamiliar path are 
self-reproach and bitterness, and the abyss, and in 
despair I turn to you and pray,

O Father-Mother, vouchsafe to me a map of my 
divinity, and a light for navigating in the dark, 
and a song of angels I can follow if the 
candlewick should sputter and the flame 
go out.

Divine Beloved, they say my thoughts make my reality, 
advising discipline, as if directing fishes of the seven 
seas to swim the currents differently. But, God, when 
I would fix my mind on Heaven, I find that it resists. 
Ideas steer themselves amiss and wander into hostile 
territory, taken and held captive there. And when the 
world in its contrariness seems alien, perverse, and 
perilous, I turn to you and pray again,

O Father-Mother, it is but my dread betraying 
me; it is my fear that weighs me down. God, 
vanquish these, my ancient enemies, and in 
the Canaan where they staked their frail and 
tentatively faithful claim, create anew in me a 
clean heart and a keen and ordered mind 
subservient to it.

Divine Beloved, they say the universe is love and 
nothing else exists. But, God, sometimes it seems that I 
am knocking on the universe’s door and no one opens 
it; nobody heeds my urgency; and I, afraid and lonely in 
a cosmos wrought of stone and haunted by imaginings 
of isolation, turn to you and pray for your embrace. 

O Father-Mother, save me from this emptiness. 
Out of the pit uplift me now, above the 
skirmishes and struggles that beset me, 
phantoms of my own anxiety that tug at 
me along the porous edges of my 
consciousness. Raise me to the heights, full in the 
sun, with vision unobstructed, such that I might 
see the allness of the Holy One, the nothingness 
of specious images (which are but errant 
thought’s invention), and the eternal, honest 
truth of love.

Divine Beloved, they say, Follow the cynosure of your 
bliss. But, God, sometimes I don’t know where it is or 
even if I’d recognize it if it met me on the wayside, 
scrambling as I tend to do from this amusement to 
that glittering distraction. I am ill acquainted with it, 
having been too long at sea, gone far from home upon 
an odyssey productive only for what it failed to find. I 
feel ashamed then and unworthy of Creation’s gifts. 
Thus it is I turn to you and pray, 

O Father-Mother, for me you have made nothing 
less than paradise; I am designed for glory, 
guided to release in poetry and song whatever 
music I possess, my poverty of spirit fed, my 
brokenness repaired and blessed abundantly, my 
soul’s treasury enriched according to your 
promise and my glad acceptance of it. For all this 
I am watchful but I need not search; it finds me 
where I rest and dream. 

Thus, Beloved, am I grateful now for what the 
harvest yields today, for tender life emerging 
through hard winter’s crust, for buds whose 
promise comes in measured time, unrushed 
among earth’s orchards, gardens, fields; for 
nature’s generosity to be revealed: great, arching 
trees in full leaf and in flower, however faintly 
scented now, appearing yet in shadow or 
in silhouette.

This is the dawning of the new day, and I, 
impatient for the unrestraint of morning over 
the horizon, sunbeams dappling the stream and 
warming field and forest, had much better feast 
my senses on the songbirds’ predawn crescendo, 
on evanescent drops of dew that settle only to 
evaporate in scented puffs of mist from wild 
grasses tender with the season; on pink and 
pale-blue streaks the sky dispatches forward, 
heralds of the coming glory, summoning the 
sentient created beings, each as witness to the 
ordinary signs and wonders that unfailingly 
appear. Then the watchers gather to give praise 
and thanks, seek mercy, receive healing, and 
turn their faces eastward, where the miracle of 
day ascends and radiates the sure and certain 
light of grace.

Amen.