The Beloved can think of nothing more beautiful
         than her children running toward her
so she stands a bit away
         so we will come to her.
But she is not waiting in faraway places:
          no, it is in people whom we least suspect.
In the stranger, even the person we dislike ―
         Ah! There she is.

She gives us this gift
         for our own delight.
The Beloved has hidden us
         in one another,
waiting for us to see
         and come together, astonished.

                       ─ June 7, 2017

When terror strikes,
random, cruel hearted
in our own places,
it shakes us.
We feel unsafe. We crave security.
The Dreaded could happen any day.
And so we rejoin our family.
We rejoin the vulnerable,
who never had the illusion of security,
who labor in danger,
who live at risk every day,
who are targeted,
and have no protectors.
They hold their funerals
and they live their lives.
They are our lives.
We are one body, one spirit.
We can’t walk away.
No matter how safe we can be
we can’t walk away.
We have to be there for each other
in the unprotected places.
That’s why we’re here,
not to walk away safe
but to be here for each other.

                           —June 5, 2017

I walk in woods,
look up into leaf-spangled sky,
pass among new ferns opening their psalm books,
pray with birds’ chants and incantations,
choose my way among rocks and mud.
Early light clings to the side of a tree
like a bird.
Bugs bug me.
Everything belongs.

This is the world I belong to,
the mud I am from.

Before I resist those who would kill it for money,
haul its body off in well paid rail cars,
before I worry,
I belong.

With every breath it becomes me.
With every step it receives me,
holds me in gravity’s love.
With every step we marry.

The great tide of earth’s history
moves through me.
I am the chalice of the universe.
I am one of you,
the body of God.
All of you are the rest of me.
I am yours.
I disappear.
I become the Milky Way.

Now I will get to work.

                           —June 2, 2017

            “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me,
                        and let the one who believes in me drink.
            As the scripture has said,
                        ‘Out of the believer’s heart
                        shall flow rivers of living water.’”
                                       —John 7.37-38

Christ, I drink deeply of you.
I drink of the clear water
flowing from your heart,
waters of Creation,
Spirit brooding,
welling up from eternal depths.
I take you into myself.
I drink deeply, and savor.

And behold,
up from the earth of me
flows a river,
the river of Christ,
flowing with healing waters,
powerful, life-giving waters,
river of the waters of life,
bright as crystal,
gushing up to eternal life,
flowing for the healing of the nations,
flowing out from me.

Christ, you are the river;
I am the riverbank.
I drink deep.
I let it flow.

                           —June 1, 2017

Colors swirl around in you,
blues and greens, mostly,
like rivers, like flames, or a planet,
thick and vibrant.
To you they are beautiful.
To someone they are survival.

Outside a child walks by, crying.
Not your child.
You don’t have to respond.
The colors need framing.
Crying, and walking.

                           —May 31, 2017
 

You breathe in.
You breathe out.
You breathe fire,
the making of stars,
the winds of creation.
You breathe a Word
that goes out
and lays hands on people
to heal and bless.
You breathe God in.
and God out.
You speak grace
in tongues you can’t know.
Look at us,
walking around,
glowing embers.

___________________
Weather Report

Fire,
in the atmosphere
and in your heart,
which is to be expected
when you live
in the heart of a star.

                           —May 30, 2017

I pray for all those who have given their lives
serving in our military, and for their loved ones.

I pray for soldiers of other nations,
who also have given of themselves.

I pray for civilian victims of war and militarism.

I pray for those who have sacrificed
for the sake of peace and non-violence,

for conscientious objectors and protestors
who have given their lives for the sake of healing.
I pray for Rick Best
and Taliesin Namkai-Meche, who both died,
and Micah Fletcher, who was injured,
acting for nonviolence in Portland.

Give me courage and compassion, God,
to devote myself
to nonviolence, healing and reconciliation,
in the name and spirit of Christ,
who met violence with love,
the Gentle One, the Crucified and Risen One.

Amen.

                           —May 29, 2017

God, I awake to my life.

I am in awe at the wonder,
the gift that is my life,
this mystery that is you unfolding.

You are the rose opening in me.

You are my freedom,
you are my beauty,
you are my future.

I receive you.
I become you.

Grateful and open,
I step out into this day

―May 26, 2017

            People of Galilee, why do you stand
            looking up toward heaven?
                           —Acts 1.11

Well, he came back from the dead,
which was very cool—
and now he’s left again, for good,
which was totally unexpected.
I mean, yeah, the whole thing
is in the realm of the absurd…
but he’s risen, right?
So he could have stayed forever, right?
Right?
Couldn’t we have had just a little clinging?

But, no. He’s gone.
As if this whole resurrection thing
has come apart in our hands.
The life he leads, and gives us, is full
of letting go.
And now we’re left with… what…
bewilderment… and grief….
and this strange unfinished feeling.
We’re looking up in the air
because that’s how we feel.
…

God
of unexpected changes,
open us
even in loss
to the next
miracle.

                           —May 25, 2017