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each tiny stitch

Aug30

each tiny stitch in a tiny sweater

for an unknown child whose needs

are beyond my comprehension

becomes for me a tiny protest

against those who would ignore

the pain of children mired in poverty and despair

or overlooked because they’re “different”

in color, faith, ethnicity;

becomes a memory of a tiny child

washed up on a foreign beach

in his family’s attempt to flee the horrors

of tyranny and violence;

becomes a tiny scream against those who scoff

at global warming’s triggering the

cataclysmic storms and fires

that leave so many children homeless,

bewildered, lost.

*

my aging fingers can’t do much these days

for the needs of children around our world,

but let me offer this…

a tiny stitch of hope that someday

the yarn of this tiny sweater

will wrap around some tiny child,

tying my heart to her heart, adding

a tiny glow of warmth, of hope,

of rainbow violet or gold,

to the ashen tatters of her oh-so-tiny life.

Aging Tree

Jul23

Lifeless branches cling

to a tall, aging tree outside my cabin window;

barren limbs, her facial wrinkles, if you will,

bespeak the many years she’s lived;

each has a story, a tale sighed

into the brisk mountain air,

a tale of one-time leafiness,

of unfulfilled desires,

of longings for the energy

of sprightly dances once tangoed

with cool, bright spring-time winds,

of  the wild slash of lightning that erased

so many hopes and dreams.

*

Not shamed or cowed by

all her wrinkled branches,

my tree stands stately,

tall, proud, self-possessed,

open to the skies of this now day,

accepting, holding close

each tattered limb

that’s left its mark,

has helped to etch

the story and the glory,

the joy, the pain,

and all the questions,

all the wonderings

of her life beneath

the vastness of this ancient sky

that holds in its depths

each moment of her life.

PrayerScapes

Nov27

These prayerscapes are offered in the hope they might be helpful for those who struggle with prayer as their lives are somewhat muted and dimmed by chronic illness.  They have grown out of my own experience of struggling with prayer during the many years I have lived with myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome.  I hope they might be helpful now to others with similar illnesses; as well, to those who deal with a chronic disability or with a life difficulty that persists, despite efforts to resolve it.

*****

 

Who am I, God?

And what is the meaning of my life…

          with this absence of longed-for activity?

                   with this restless, unwelcome stillness?     

                             with this inability to bolster self-esteem through accomplishments?

My bones cry out with all they have been taught: that meaning comes

          with doing,

                   with producing,

                             with busy-ness, activity, accomplishments.

Help me, I pray,

          to experience something of your Presence in what often feels like Absence,

          to learn new ways to look at my life and find richness in these restrictions,

          to believe your eternal gaze of love affirms my life with or without “accomplishments,”

          to believe that you cherish me, not for what I “do,” but simply because I “be,”

          to find joy in giving thanks for the many graces tucked among the many challenges,

          to hear your invitation to rest in the mystery of my life, the mystery of Who You are,

          to believe that, in everything, you do indeed work to bring about good. 

Amen.

*****

Where are you, God?

And who are you?

Where and who are you in all the wars and ecological disasters around the world? 

Where and who are you in the corridors of children’s hospitals where little ones are suffering and dying before they’ve even had a chance to live? 

Where and who are you in the limits that have confined my life and the lives of all who live with a chronic or prolonged illness or difficulty?

Have you forgotten us, O God?

Or is it the case that you are simply hidden from our human eyes in “light inaccessible,”* in light that surrounds the majesty and mystery of your eternal reality?

I do not know all the answers.

Yet, in spite of the pain of this unknowing, help me to trust, to believe the promise of your Word:

that the arms of Jesus stretched in love upon the cross are your arms reaching for us,

that on that cross you suffered and overcame the full power of evil in the human body of your Son,

that on that cross you shared the pain of our fragile lives when suffering overwhelms,           

that you embrace us in those times when we cry out with Jesus, “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”                

that your arms reach to help us find a measure of healing even in all of our un-wellness,    

that your arms reach out in resurrection hope and promise that evil and suffering will never have the final say in our lives or in our world. 

O God, I do believe.  Please help my unbelief.

Amen

*from the hymn “Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise”  Walter C. Smith (1867)

*****

Will this ever be over, God? 

Days come when I dare to hope for a medical breakthrough

or a miraculous divine intervention,

but today is not one of them; 

today despair hovers in the very air I breathe;          

the sun rises, but its rays seem dark, foreboding. 

Will this ever be over, God?! 

Can I hope for richer, fuller days of vibrant aliveness and activity,

or is this “it”? 

As I pour out my complaint, God, a quiet inner voice urges me–

to find a measure of equanimity

in acknowledging and accepting my despair;                         

to know that you do not judge me for my dark,

despairing moments; 

to learn to “think small,” and find a measure of joy in accomplishing

little, sometimes even tiny goals;

to be mindful of the richness of each moment,

each task, no matter how insignificant it might seem;

to open space within me for new understandings,

new ventures for my mind and soul. 

Creator of my life, hold close my darkness,

surround, undergird my fragile life

in your everlasting arms.

Amen.    

*****

   

How much I need, O God, an anchoring

in my life’s chronic roller-coaster

ups and downs.

Help me, I ask, to be able simply to live, each day,
                             today,

whatever today may bring;

on the up days of greater energy and strength,

let me be fully alive to all such days offer,

restfully, mindfully, but never over-reachingly;

and on the down days of greater fatigue and pain,

let me again be anchored and fully alive

to all that’s held in my wiltedness—

the stillness, the mystery,

even the elusive presence of hope.

Grant me an anchored-ness

in every day you gift to me,

protect me, in every up, in every down,

from the demons of bitterness and self-pity;

help me to practice gratitude

for every flowering

that colors the drabness

of long days;

open my ears, my heart

to the music of joy

that ever echoes

in all the tumult

of this bewildering

roller-coaster life.

Amen.

*****

Sing me Joy, Spirit God,

you who took on human flesh

to know our woes, share our pain,

help me know that I am seen,

accepted,

understood.

Companion me, Lord Christ,

that I may share your joy—

despite my disappointments,

sometime loneliness and pain—

in all the wonders of this world.

Remind me of your promise ever

to be with me

in all the twists and turns

of my chronic life,

to love me ever

even when I find it hard

to love myself.

JOY!  Fill my chronic cup

to overflowing, gracious God. 

Amen.

Backyard Trees

Nov4

My backyard trees declare the glory of God;

their multitude of leaves show forth his handiwork;*

I sit beneath them, confined yet free

to soar into the grace of greenery, patterns

woven by fingers divine, so intricate and fine,

shading my days, carpeting my sky,

itself a vastness stretching beyond

into eons of time, reaching

to the Source of all that is,  

the infinite Love that shapes the distant galaxies,

yet revels in each tiny leaf,

each tiny life, keeping count

of all our tossings,

recording all our tears.**

I am silenced beneath these trees, this sky,

lost in a wonder that canopies

my fleeting hours;

aching with a joyous yearning

for more of all that’s here,

of all that lies beyond.

***

*from Psalm 19:1  The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. (KJV)

**from Psalm 56:8 You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your record? (NRSV)

Autumn Haiku

Oct21

mellowing with age

falling gently into fall

shining to the end

***

harbinger of fall

nestled in my evergreen

moment of wonder

***

paint my fingers red

the green leaves cry to the wind

let me finish bright

Beauty of Wildness in the Berkshires

Sep4

a delicate wildflower shines its tiny light

against the darkness of the forest growth;

lush wild vines tango through the sumac

and wind their way up agèd trees;

artistic foliage sprouts wings that

wave in mountain winds;

a wild, spontaneous, unstructured beauty

that whispers to me of an elusive Presence

creatively at work amidst the shadows of our world,

amidst the troubles of our often unimaginative

lives, amidst our patterned restlessness.

*

I ask for the gift of quiet to listen,

absorb the mystery of life abundant,

rich, overflowing with an untameable

splendor from before the dawn of time,

hallowed life that reaches to that someday

Presence that awaits me at the end

of my life’s path.

Cabin Cats

Aug7

Daughter and I took care of these cats while we enjoyed several weeks at son’s cabin in the Berkshires.  Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they took care of us!

A delight!

Into the air they leap,

snatching frantically

at their bright pink plastic feather,

as though the fate of the cosmos

depended on their success;

or under the table they lurk,

their dark, sleek bodies a-tremble,

ready to pounce

on the tiniest of bugs,

a simple tuft of dust,

a tail, a ray of sun.

anything that might disturb

the order of their world;

they race, they pounce, they chase

whatever might be chaseable,

each other, if there’s nothing else,

so eager, so fully engaged

in all the joy of simply being alive.

*

A moment later, in the blinking of an eye.

they curl into balls of furry gray,

yawn and stretch their nimble limbs,

purr until they fall into a sleep

beyond profound,

dreaming away their yesterdays,

leaving tomorrow to tomorrow.

*

Other times, so wide awake, they sit transfixed,

little buddhas gazing into all that is, 

embodying all a yoga instructor

once tried to teach my restlessness:

groundedness,

mindfulness,

full presence in each moment.

*

Sometimes I think I’d like to be a cat.

Pentecost Prayer

Jun5

Spirit, very soul and breath of God,

Wind who swept across the deep darkness

of earth’s primordial waters,

Voice who whispered to prophets of Old,

Blazing Tongues of Fire that descended

in a rush of multi-lingual ecstacy

on the day of Pentecost,

 where are you today?

*

Come again, O Holy One,

sweep and whisper,

breathe and blaze again  

your fiery wisdom, power,

comfort and hope

in the deep, deep darkness of our time,

as the waters of chaos swirl,

menace, and threaten to drown

all that we hold dear.