The Coming

And God held in his hand

A small globe. Look he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows: a bright
Serpent, A river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.
On a bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The sky. many People
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said.

-- R. S. Thomas (1913-2000) Welsh poet and Anglican priest.

For Keeps

Sun makes the day new.
Tiny green plants emerge from earth.
Birds are singing the sky into place.
There is nowhere else I want to be but here.
I lean into the rhythm of your heart to see where it will take us.
We gallop into a warm, southern wind.
I link my legs to yours and we ride together,
Toward the ancient encampment of our relatives.
Where have you been? they ask.
And what has taken you so long?
That night after eating, singing, and dancing
We lay together under the stars.
We know ourselves to be part of mystery.
It is unspeakable.
It is everlasting.
It is for keeps.

 --Joy Harjo (1951- ), poet laureate of the United States 2019- , member of the Muscogee Nation, from Poems of Resistance, Poems of Hope, edited by Naomi Shihab Nye, 2020

Prayer for the 50th Earth Day

Creator of the Universe,
who is making Heaven and Earth, 
let all that lives tell out your glory. 

Rocks and hills,
ocean depths and craggy peaks,
the wind that caresses them, 
all join to sing out your Holy Name.

You planted your holy song, O Lord,
in laughing brook and rambling river
fed by rain before time.

Murmuring grass and field of wheat
whisper “Alleluia!”
as the beauty of the Lord passes by.

Thunder and rain, summer sun and shadow
work together with soil and seed
to prepare a table in the wilderness by your will.

The works of your Hand, O Mighty One,
testify to your steadfast kindness and mercy:
You crown all you see as good.

Forgive us for our trespasses against each other,
and against the Earth, our mother,
for seeking to hoard her riches
and denying her integrity.

May we walk gently upon this Earth,
that bears us like a chariot through space,
upheld by your wondrous Love.

May we care for all creation,
being dedicated and blessed by You,
called to serve its renewal and guard its unity.

By the power of the Holy Spirit,
she that moved over the waters of creation, 

the waters of birth and life,
renew and recreate in us
a reverence for the Earth and all her inhabitants.

Lord Christ, center us in your wisdom,
and pour out your healing
over all we remember before You.

Amen.


--Leslie Scoopmire, with a photo added by my friend Caroline Carson: the Earth as crescent from the Rosetta spacecraft.

Prayer of the Meadows

Lord of Life, 
all things are upheld by your tender hand; 
as the earth turns gratefully under your gaze, 
may our hearts revolve within your love. 

May we open our souls to receive your truth, 
and be molded by your generating Spirit
to care for this earth,
dappled and spangled with bud and bloom.
May we walk mindfully among the lustrous grasses
watching waves of light and shadow 
testify to the Wisdom You breathed into creation,
and dance to the tune of resurrection
that springs up from the waking ground.

May we praise You, O God, with joyful abandon,
joining the song of bluebirds, titmice, and wrens.
As the fields awaken gratefully
before the warming southern wind,
may we bow our heads in thankfulness
for all the You have done for us, O Holy One.

Center us, Good Lord,
within the greening boughs of your mercy and grace
and grant your sustaining help 
to all those whom we remember before You.

Amen.

Much in Little

Amid the iris and the rose,
The honeysuckle and the bay,
The wild earth for a moment goes
In dust or weed another way.

Small though its corner be, the weed
Will yet intrude its creeping beard;
The harsh blade and the hairy seed
Recall the brutal earth we feared.

And if no water touch the dust
In some far corner, and one dare
To breathe upon it, one may trust
The spectre on the summer air:

The risen dust alive with fire,
The fire made visible, a blur
Interrate, the pervasive ire
Of foxtail and of hoarhound burr.

--Yvor Winters (1900-1968), poet and teacher, observer of life in California

Ribblesdale

Earth, sweet Earth, sweet landscape, with leavés throng
And louchéd low grass, heaven that dost appeal
To, with no tongue to plead, no heart to feel;
That canst but only be, but dost that long—

Thou canst but be, but that thou well dost; strong
Thy plea with him who dealt, nay does now deal,
Thy lovely dale down thus and thus bids reel
Thy river, and o’er gives all to rack or wrong.

  And what is Earth’s eye, tongue, or heart else, where
Else, but in dear and dogged man?—Ah, the heir
To his own selfbent so bound, so tied to his turn, 
To thriftless reave both our rich round world bare
And none reck of world after, this bids wear
Earth brows of such care, care and dear concern.

--Gerard Manley Hopkins, SJ (1844-1889), English Jesuit priest and poet

Once the World Was Perfect

Once the world was perfect, and we were happy in that world.
Then we took it for granted.
Discontent began a small rumble in the earthly mind.
Then Doubt pushed through with its spiked head.
And once Doubt ruptured the web,
All manner of demon thoughts
Jumped through—
We destroyed the world we had been given
For inspiration, for life—
Each stone of jealousy, each stone
Of fear, greed, envy, and hatred, put out the light.
No one was without a stone in his or her hand.
There we were,
Right back where we had started.
We were bumping into each other
In the dark.
And now we had no place to live, since we didn't know
How to live with each other.
Then one of the stumbling ones took pity on another
And shared a blanket.
A spark of kindness made a light.
The light made an opening in the darkness.
Everyone worked together to make a ladder.
A Wind Clan person climbed out first into the next world,
And then the other clans, the children of those clans, their children,
And their children, all the way through time—
To now, into this morning light to you.

-- Joy Harjo (1951- ), Muscogee (Creek) American, US Poet Laureate 2019- . musician and artist, from Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings, 2015.

[O sweet spontaneous

O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the
doting

                   fingers of
prurient philosophers pinched
and poked

thee
,has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy

        beauty        how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squeezing and

buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
            (but
true

to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover

                        thou answerest


them only with

                                   spring)

--e. e. cummings (1894-1962), American poet, from Tulips and Chimneys (1923)

Kiss the Earth

Walk and touch peace every moment.
Walk and touch happiness every moment.
Each step brings a fresh breeze.
Each step makes a flower bloom.
Kiss the Earth with your feet.
Bring the Earth your love and happiness.
The Earth will be safe when we feel safe in ourselves.

--Thich Nhat Hahn (1926- ), Vietnamese Zen Buddhist monk, peace activist, teacher, poet, and writer


Photo: A Tibetan Buddhist monk works on a mandala at the St. Louis Art Museum, photo mine.

Psalm 65

To You, silence is praise, O God in Zion,
and to You vows are paid. O You who hear prayer,
before You all flesh comes. Misdeeds—
they are stronger than I am; our transgressions—
You are the one who makes atonement.

Privileged are those whom You choose and draw near
to dwell in Your courts.
May we be satisfied with the goodness of Your house,
Your holy temple.
With awesome works, in righteousness, You answer us,
O God of our salvation,
the Confidence of all the ends of the earth,
and the furthest reaches of the sea.

He sets firm the mountains in his strength;
He is girded with might.
He silences the roar of the seas, the roar of their waves,
and the din of the nations.

Those who inhabit the ends of the earth
feel reverent-fear at your signs;
the reaches of morning and evening,
You make them ring with joy.

You visit the earth and water it;
You abundantly enrich it—
God’s stream, full of water.
You set their grain—yes, You set it just so.
Drenching its furrows, settling its hillocks,
You soften it with showers; its growth You bless.
You have crowned the year with Your goodness,
and Your wagon-tracks drip richness.

The pastures of the wilderness are dripping,
and the hills are girdled with rejoicing.
The meadows are clothed with the flocks,
and the valleys robed with grain.
They shout out; they even sing.

-- translated by Ellen Davis, American Biblical scholar, professor, and agrarian

A Prayer of Awareness

God is the foundation of everything;
This God undertakes, God gives,
Such that nothing that is necessary
     for life is lacking.
Now humankind needs a body that
     at all times honors and praises God.
This body is supported in every way
     through the earth.
Thus the earth glorifies the power of God.

--Hildegard von Bingen (1098-1179)