FOR YOU

“So that you may be filled with the fullness of God.” – Ephesians 3

Close your eyes, rest
and soon, if you watch
and listen, you will see
and hear, a grace prepared
just for you.

Pay attention, for the bugs
who crawl, the butterflies
who flit, the hummingbirds
who rapidly beat their wings,
have been placed here
just for you.

May the green alfalfa fields,
red and yellow mountains,
towering white clouds,
green trees with shimmering leaves,
illuminate your path,
so that you may be filled
with the fullness of God.

Amen.

HOLY REST

Abbott Benedict hunches over his desk,
scribing 73 rules for monks,
beginning with the word,
“listen.”

The Abbess Petunia rolls over,
reclines and dreams the word,
“surrender.”

When we grant ourselves holy rest,
wisdom settles on us like dust between breezes.
The stillness that lies between our breaths,
gives our oblate hearts precious time to love.

(poem inspired by photograph provided by Christine Valters Paintner @ abbeyof thearts.com Visit Christine's website and join the Poetry Party every other Monday.)

RESTLESS WATERS

Restless waters summon me
to sit in silence at day’s end.
A grassy shore inviting
stretched out dreaming.

Carried away on swift currents
down river to new places.
Lessons to learn, life to live,
eager to press on.

But the river that called, tested me,
found me lacking and spit me out.
Stumbling on shore, magpies swoop low
screeching, catching a glimpse of this stranger.

Resting now on dry ground, I listen
to the song of earth’s heartbeat.
Notes written during creation
for me to hear today.

My new journey now set, I begin,
walking briskly along the shore.
The river that rejected me
is now my map home.

A traveler appears walking toward me.
Quickly, silently passing one another,
I halt and stare when I recognize
the old man’s face as my own.

SHORT WALK/LONG JOURNEY / V2.0

Paper thin, pale skin begins
to crepe like dry moth wings -
unable to carry any longer
the heavy loads of heartbeat and breathe.

Clouded eyes blink and struggle
to focus for a minute -
a sharp exhale rushes out
and meets the shaky rise
as I struggle to stand.

Feet shuffle across a forest floor,
making their way
to lay this broken body down
and rest in a soft pine needle nest.

At last I find my placecard
for the eternal feast.
UNKNOWN.

Poem inspired by photograph taken by and used with permission of Christine Valters Paintner (www.abbeyofthearts.com)