Blessed

Blessed be the Wind: racing, eroding, unsettling, compelling,
and blessed are we that the Wind does not leave us alone.

Blessed be the Flesh: grieving, straining, delighting, satisfying,
and blessed are we that the Flesh reveals the fullness of life.

Blessed be the Insight: guiding, surprising, marveling, upending,
and blessed are we that the Insight finds us within one another.

cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals

Thanksgiving

All praise and thanks to you
most holy God of gods
and LORD of lords,
Sovereign of all the bits & pieces
that distract and delight me,
Holder and Seer of every puzzle that feels
scattered and unsolved with
pieces missing or bent,
Eternal Fire illuminating moon and stars and sun and
each face inclined toward your goodness,
Purveyor of a love without bounds
that explodes our understanding,
Composer of tunes I have yet to hear and
of melodies not meant for my heart,
Blossom of Hope that supplants
evil and ego at their roots,
Irrepressible Jester
still clowning our systems & our certainties,
dear Sacred Heart that cannot stop
bleeding,
most talented Knitter
of lives that cannot live apart
from the flesh and breath of each other,
and then too:
Sleeping Giant
of unimagined nightmare,
Leviathan with your restless churning
and your merciless upheaval,
Vast Wilderness unrelenting
toward the lost and lonely wayfarer,
most deafening Silence:
all praise and thanks to you
and you alone
in every incarnation and every desperation,
in every sign and season and simplicity,
in every pulse of love or loss,
as I cling close and then as I can’t stand you
even still and always: all praise and thanks to you.

The LORD Is My Screen Time

The LORD alone is my rock:

the firm ground beneath my feet,
the foundation built by centuries of life
and hardship and compression, the reliable
place when all else quakes and trembles

God alone is my screen time:

the shining light that holds my gaze,
the comforting glow, the distraction before me
at every turn and every moment, the source
of laughter and tears and connection

God is my fortress and my hiding place:

more than covers pulled over my head,
more than the “nothing bothers me” mask,
more than the coffee shop of intimate anonymity,
more than locks and bolts and dreamless sleep

The LORD alone is my parking spot:

the guiding lines, the space to be,
the stopping point along the journey,
the moment of bracing and breathing before
transitioning from place to place to place

God alone is my coffee mug:

the warmth to my fingertips, the renewal
and the calm alike descending over my spirit,
the daily routine, the one vessel that is never empty
or stingy, the wellspring of surprising life

The LORD alone is my wall art:

as captivating as the winter sunset, as
exquisite in every brushstroke as the swooping
hawk, as inspiring as a romantic crush, as delightful
to the soul as dark chocolate is to the tongue