women's wisdom

Life is short, and it is up to you to make it sweet.

To get to you,
I traveled light years
Through cosmic storms and dust,

Only to find you sleeping
on your simple cot.

Stepping back,
I folded,
Quietly,

My gray ragged wings.

I could see why he chose you,
The glow of your pure breath...

I didn’t mean to frighten you,
Just wanted to keep looking...

I wanted to breathe in your innocent air,
Look at your soft,
Surrendered hands...
Another second ...
Before I told you the news.

Eternal Listener, give heed to
Your people,
You, who dwell amidst the angels,
Shine forth into the heart of
All nations!
Enliven your people with compassion
That peace and justice
Might flourish.
Restore us, O Holy One;
Let your face shine upon us,
Teach us to love.

People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.

For your prayer
your journey into God,
may you be given a small storm
a little hurricane
named after you, persistent enough
to get your attention
violent enough
to give you to new depths
strong enough
To shake you to the roots
majestic enough to remind you of your origin:
made of the earth
yet steeped in eternity
frail human dust
yet soaked with infinity.

I am thinking, or trying to think, about all the
Imponderables for which we have
no answers, yet endless interest all the
Range of our lives...
Mystery, after all, is God’s other name...

But, but---
excuse me now, please; it’s morning, heavenly bright,
and my irrepressible heart begs me to hurry on
Into the next exquisite moment.

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.