An Easter Prayer for These Times

Lynn Schooler DAWN

 

Waiting for Hope

From the grip of all that is evil, free us.
Into the womb of the Sacred deliver us.

Brood us, Lifegiver.
Warm our crippled core
with the elixer of your hope.

We waited…
The immalleable membrane of despair
Stretched to the limits against
Unimagined possibilities.

We dared to imagine-

Barrier breached.

© Rita H Kowats 4-10-2017

(Inspired by The Lord’s Prayer, New Zealand Prayer Book)

 

 

The video takes a few seconds to begin…don’t give up!

 

 

Photo Credit: Lynn Schooler, Juneau AK

The Remnant

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שְׁאָר‎‎

Isaiah 11:16
There will be a highway leading out of Assyria for the remnant of the people that is left, just as there was for Israel when it came up out of Egypt.

 

For Jen who summoned us with her “Up”

Hunkered down in this frigid forest of defeat
We cling to the last vestigages
Of light and warmth trying to remember
Who we once were.

What with the wailing and gnashing of teeth
(Not to mention the rending of garments)
We have forgotten the power of the Left Behind-
The holy remnant who diffuses the Light.

“Up with you!” comes the call.
Retrieving the pieces of our cast off garments
We rise. We begin.

© rita h kowats 12-8-2016

Check out Jen’s blog where you can feast on a treasue trove of thought beautifully crafted:

https://randomactsofwriting.wordpress.com

Waiting for a Green Blade

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It is 25 degrees F. in Seattle this morning.  The sheets of rain have given way to brilliant sunshine. I let loose a hopeful sigh that soon our spirits may shake off despair and emerge whole and enlightened.

 Messenger of Sight

I would send a raven to your window with a green blade
to show you the flood that blinded
is gone down and my eyes can see
the torn sinews of the impoverished
earth gasp in this white, winter light.

John O’Donohue in Echoes of Memory

Old People like Old Barns

rebeccas-barn

 

This poem emerges from a recent conversation with my dear friend Linda in which we commiserated and celebrated our entrance into the stage of The Velveteen Rabbit, scars and bald spots our glorious trophies. Especially the inside ones. Enjoy.

 

Old people like old barns
Lure light through weathered
Planks in sagging frames.
It spills in speckled streaks
Onto the foundations of their souls
Where young visitors can sprawl
And play at life.

© Rita h kowats 12-2-16

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo credit: Rebecca Staebler http://www.hubbubshop.com

Día de Muertos-Day of the Dead

dofd-collage

I dedicate this post to a friend whose death is close.  He has chosen to die at this time rather than wait. Being kept alive by extraordinary means at an advanced age seems counterproductive to him when he could be dancing with the dead!  

Enjoy this extraordinary film of the life cycle of nature in Alaska, remembering that we are nature. Today is a day to celebrate the cycle.

 

 

“Light in August”

dahlia photo pin 2

I am a long-time lover of William Faulkner novels.  We share a fondness for the unique quality of light in August, which manifests much differently than in earlier months. The experimental dahlia garden which graces a park close to my home is exquisite at 6:30 p.m. on late August days. I return to the garden often during this season to luxuriate in the varying hues until sunset .  At 6:45 the chartreuse dahlias are rivaled only by the pulsing incandescence of the “Clara Maria” at 7:30.

When asked about the title of his novel Light in August, William Faulkner said

“. . .in August in Mississippi there’s a few days somewhere about the middle of the month when suddenly there’s a foretaste of fall, it’s cool, there’s a lambence, a soft, a luminous quality to the light, as though it came not from just today but from back in the old classic times. It might have fauns and satyrs and the gods and—from Greece, from Olympus in it somewhere. It lasts just for a day or two, then it’s gone. . .the title reminded me of that time, of a luminosity older than our Christian civilization.”

― William Faulkner

 “…a luminosity older than our Christian civilization. ” As a spiritual practice this August I am letting its light lure me into a luminosity beyond time, a luminosity so brilliant as to dim the rancid ranting of political campaigns and endless wars.

 Catch the light:

  • Read, watch, listen to only enough news to inform and educate; don’t wallow in endless repetitons designed to stir-up and push down. Transform data into empathy.

  • Discuss sparingly pray often.

  • Work toward personal enlightenment by honest self-reflection on attitudes and behaviors that dim the light and cast shadows on others’ light.

  • Mantra:  Breathing in I am Light
                       Breathing out I release darkness.
    Say this when luminosity begins to fade.

  • Intentionally create opportunities for laughter and play.  Meister Eckhart says, “God laughs and plays.”

Welcome to August!

 

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/50879678@N03/12796147483″>Dahlia, Walled Garden, parc de Culzean Castle, Maybole, South Ayrshire, Ecosse, Grande-Bretagne, Royaume-Uni.</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;

 

 

 

Grief and the Grind of Suffering

I offer this poem as solidarity with friends and followers who experience great loss and suffering at this time.  Recently a line from BBC’s “Call the Midwife” stunned me.  The nurse said to a grieving wife, “We just keep on living until we are alive again.” This.

 

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