Impossible and unending (revised)

I arrived

during the homily,

gladly found 

a place in the back.

Thought of you

and prayed for you.

For all this week

has brought your way.

But more,

for daily life, fear, pain

that must seem

impossible and unending.

Afterward I hopscotched

my way forward through

congregants making

their way home.

And lit a candle,

thinking of you.

And hoping for something better,

anything, better.

I lit a second,

and quickly a third.

Soon realizing I would run out of candles

before I ran out of people and prayers

So I quit.

Quit lighting candles,

that is, not prayers,

and left.

Impossible and unending

I arrived

During the homily

And gladly found

A place in the last row

Thought of you

And prayed for you

For all this week

Has brought your way

But more,

For daily life and fear and pain

That must seem

Impossible and unending

Afterward I went forward

Past those

Making their way home

Or to a favorite lunch place

And lit a candle

Thinking of you

And hoping for something better,

Anything, better

I lit a second

And quickly a third

Soon realizing I would run out of candles

Before I ran out of people and prayers

So I quit,

Quit lighting candles,

That is, not prayers,

And left

Anyway

Some give God the credit
Others assign the blame
Seems presumptuous of both
Trying to justify
What they would have done anyway

They speak of angels

They speak of angels,
Blinding lights and
Silver wings aflutter,
Not quite flesh
They seem to hover

Protecting our offspring,
And the aged we ignore,
Shepherding believers
As well the doubting score

A dance without music
Of magic and mystery
A child’s dream
And hope in senility

Everyone does

pilgrim, poet, prophet
i'd like to think
i have something to say
or, at least, somewhere to go

i'd like to think
a lot of things
about one’s worldly significance
especially related to me

yes, me
big surprise
another aging person
fearing an empty end

keep your head above water
don't follow the crowd
it all makes sense
but you forget too soon

everyone does
you'll get your turn
i'd tell you to get ready
but there’s really no way

breath after breath
step follows step
dust again dust
and i'll soon be no more

My soul stirs

My soul stirs
What will another sunrise bring?

My soul stirs
Memories, hope, and expectation
I forestall anticipation to prevent disappointment.

My soul stirs
Anxious yet willing
Aware but uncertain
I will wait while shadows linger once again.

My soul stirs
Words may emerge
An answer is unlikely
Silence, is that the response?
Absence, its own confirmation.

I do not beg

I do not beg for you to answer
I do not expect my pleadings fulfilled
I do not press for you to prove yourself
I do not desire the childish rush
Of emotional connections,
Rooted in infatuation, delivering
An adolescent pseudo-spiritual climax

I am tired of the stories
Of what is supposed to be
As I seek
Follow, listen, and wait
It does not ring true
It never has

But the fear of exclusion,
Hovering failure
Long caused me to
Mimic the words,
And teach the expectations to others
Possibly damning them to
An unending state of guilt,
Confusion and fear
Terrorized from within
That they are the only ones
Who do not have a “relationship” with you

Like the songs that
Fill our Sunday mornings,
Or other scheduled times,
If we are really trendy
We read the texts that crowd
The Christian bookstore,
With terrible beginnings
And overwhelmingly
Victorious denouements

I’d be better served to
Keep quiet
To know contentment
Being satisfied with
What has been entrusted to me,
And then to wait and listen--
No, to actually clear my
Schedule and mind
And wait--
Not to see if God shows up
But to discover
If I can discover
What has always been

We awake to the new morning

We awake to the new morning
Giving thanks to the creator and sustainer of life
For another breath

We awake to the new morning
Remembering all who have helped
Us to arrive at this moment and place

We awake to the new morning
With regret for our selfishness
That we have wronged and harmed others

We awake to the new morning
Knowing that forgiveness is rooted in love
That God is love, so we are forgiven

We awake to the new morning
And we choose to live by faith
Being and doing as the Spirit guides

We awake to the new morning
And we hold to the hope that is within us
More than ourselves, other than ourselves