WRITING

This morning I managed to still my breath
to hear the voice within tell me
to step away from the conversation,
to push away from the table
long enough
to pay attention to the words
laying at the threshold of my heart.

Others will always companion me
along this uncharted journey, their fingerprints
joining those of thousands whose hands
have shaped the clay of my soul.
But the final touch on the Potter’s wheel
is reserved for the One who formed me
in my mother’s womb and leads me still.

With whispered words He summons me
along a path strewn with stories
waiting to be heard by fellow travelers
who hear the call to Home.
I’ll gladly sit now in a dimly lit corner
where I’ll pray and let His words
fall freely out of my pen.

HAPPY BLOGIVERSARY TO ME!

Yep, it's already been a year.
Thanks to those who led the way:
Sister Mer and Brother Buck.

UNBIDDEN

On the cusp of this slow morning,
unbidden memories of your chameleon eyes
rode in on the crest of a pale blue wind.
But then I lost the details of your face
when the scent of blooming lilacs
distracted me the way they always did.
And so I mourn for times long past
when simple walks and serious kisses
let me deeply drink in your eyes
and force your face eternally out of focus.

COMMUNION OF HOPE

Celebrated in my cell at Christ in the Desert Monastery
on Wednesday, May 23, 2007

How fitting that tonight,
we gather in an upper room –
a room filled with the love of Christ
and pregnant with possibilities.

We see ourselves as the people of God,
beneficiaries of the gift of hope –
hope that one day
this world will truly live
Christ’s message.

Until that time
we continue to gather
around the table
with like-minded people
to share the gifts of God –
this bread, this wine –
this body, this blood –
to make us whole.

Let us remember
our family and friends
as we approach this table –
sharing the love
Christ first shared with us.

One: God be with you
All: And also with you
One: Let us lift up our hearts
All: We lift up our hearts to God our source of hope.
One: Let us give thanks to our blessed God.
All: It is right to give our thanks and praise.

It is truly right
to give our thanks and praise
to the one who gives us hope.
As we love our earthly existence,
it is far too easy
to become cynical
and to feel empty.

One need only be present
to the world to see
abject poverty,
pain,
and abuses of power.

We have been shown
the other way
by the teacher sent to us.
We’ve heard the lessons;
But have we learned them?

In sharing this meal,
let us remember
when these lessons
are fully lived
hope can be brought
to all not just a few.

As we ponder this charge,
let us listen to the choir of angels:

All: “Holy, holy, holy Lord,
God of pow’r and migh.t
Heaven and earth are full of your glory,
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,
Hosanna in the highest.”

The angels sing
and our hearts soar;
it is now time to take up
the message of hope -
to share it with one another –
family, friend and stranger.
Let us declare the mystery of faith:

All: “Christ has died,
Christ is risen,
Christ shall come again.”

On the night of his betrayal…

BOOKSTORE MEDITATION

In the calm of the monastery bookstore
with only the recorded sound of ancient songs
sung to a mysterious but familiar God,
we slip into a gentle meditation.

Present to this world but connected to another
we revel in the delight of luxurious love,
comforted by the wide open welcoming arms
of a God always present to share our joy.

To know that I can let this world go
and enter into a place God has made for me
brings a gentle smile to my lips
and an ageless song to my heart.

Amen.

CHAMA RIVER CANYON

Late Spring in the canyon -
a time of rebirth,
as cacti bloom red overnight...





and starkly white moonflowers
share their bright morning beauty
while perched on the side of an arroyo...

brief rainshowers

deepen craggy cliff colors

of orange, yellow and red.

In the next moment,

bright sunshine spawns

waves of damp heat

which nourish young shoots

of wild green sagebrush.

My soul drinks deeply

in this sacred place

as I long to disappear

into the One.

HIGH DESERT MORNING CALL TO WORSHIP


The sound of wild geese honking
resounds from the Chama River,
reminding me of the ever presence
of all things holy given freely
by a generous and humble God.

Skittery long-eared, cotton-tailed rabbits
deliberately chewing their breakfast greens,
now take the time to lead us onward
on the hidden path to truth.

Nature seduces a ready heart
longing to be one with life
lived abundantly and bravely confident
in God's sure and raucous love.

LAUDS IN CHIMAYO

Mourning doves coo on the tin roof

of the old santuario

as I sit on a rough-hewn pew,

staring at my tortured saviour,

praying that these sounds comfort Him

just as He comforts me.

BOOKSTORE BLESSING

Entering the monastery bookstore,
surprised to find it vacant –
no customers, no shopkeeper.
A twist of fate turned surprise on its ear
as I heard a gentle, “Hello.”
Brother Rodrigo spoke the word
and then some more, “I remember you.”

Four years past, a one week retreat,
some light-hearted banter about lunch.
We have no choice in how we’re locked
away in someone else’s memory.
Like old friends, we step on each others words,
until the assurance of time slows our breath –
random stories shared in a desperate effort
to connect with our past and the present.

Soon laughter comes easily
as souls intertwine in a tangle of expectation.
The tales grow longer as we trust
each other’s eyes – a deeper mystery shared.
But then church bells peal – a call to prayer.
We smile knowingly as we finish our hour
of mutual bookstore blessing with a hug.
Later, a smile from the choir stall –
a resounding “amen.”

A Friday bit of a break from all this seriousness…

HEARING

I look upon my gift
of being hard of hearing
as a blessing.

Gift? Blessing?
YES!

I guess about 40% of what people say (myself included)
is nonsense.

I guess I hear about 60% of what people say.

As I see it (or hear it),
I’m ahead of the game.

Gift? Blessing?
YES!