sorrows

who would believe them winged

who would believe they could be

beautiful            who would believe
they could fall so in love with mortals

that they would attach themselves
as scars attach and ride the skin



sometimes we hear them in our dreams
rattling their skulls           clicking their bony fingers

envying our crackling hair
our spice filled flesh



they have heard me beseeching
as I whispered into my own

cupped hands          enough not me again
enough        but who can distinguish

one human voice
amid such choruses of desire


--Lucille Clifton (1936-2010), African American poet, author, and teacher, three time Pulitzer Prize nominee and winner of the National Book Award for Blessing the Boats: New and Selected Poems 1988-2000.

Scripture reference: Psalm 130, Lent 5A

Iceland

Last night I dreamed of icy cliffs
Standing on the precipice
I leaned to see just where the edge would take me
The wind came up, I closed my eyes
I heard a shout and to my surprise
A hand reached out and pulled me back to safety

What's a hand, what's a dream
Who can say what it means
When everything that you know
Can disappear
Don't look back, the spirits cry
Just be glad to be alive
Everything that you love is right here
Everything that you love:

Life feels smaller than this stone
Worn smooth inside my palm
I keep it like a charm inside my pocket
I keep thinking I'll flame out
Leave no one with a doubt
That I was meant to fire like a rocket

What's a stone, what's a flame
There's always someone else to blame
When everything that you know disappears
Don't look back the spirits cry
Just be glad to be alive
Everything that you need is right here
Everything that you need:

When I'm left here on the shore
The ancient basalt moor
Will beckon me to sleep among its heather
Who's not tempted to fold in
So that sleep may come again
Where the fire and the ice hide their treasure

Everything that you love
Everything that you need

--Mary Chapin Carpenter (1958- ), American singer-songwriter and poet, from her album The Age of Miracles (2010) She explains this song here.

Blue Christmas prayer

 
Around us, O God, the singing can be heard: ‘Joy to the world…let heaven and nature sing.’ This season is to be one of hope eases our minds, when peace soothes our hearts, when love warms our souls, and when joy comes each morning.

But there are many who do not feel this joy. Some might try, others have given up trying. ‘Where is this joy for us?’ they ask. The world has found joy but some feel as if it has passed them by. Our minds are not at ease…we feel too much doubt. Our hearts are not at peace…there is too much to do. Our souls are not warmed…the chill of death is too troubling. Where, O God, can joy be found? We ask this as we come before you in prayer, opening ourselves to the possibility that hope, peace, joy, and love might still come to us.

We pray for the lonely, that they might find comfort in another’s touch.

We pray for the downtrodden, that they might find relief from their burdens.

We pray for those wrestling with depression, that a light of calm might bring them peace.

We pray for those dealing with stress, that they might find the courage to let go. 

We pray for the grief-stricken, that they might experience the newness of life that you bring.

May joy come to the world, O God, and may we grasp some of that. We do not pray for joy that is temporary or fleeting, but a joy that runs deep and sustains us even in moments of despair. We seek this joy in a season that can be less than joyful. O God, hear our prayer.

We wait for Emanuel, God With Us, to come into our hearts once again. May we experience your love in new ways as we in turn love each other. We pray this in the name of the One who is to come. Amen.

-- Jeffrey A. Nelson, aka coffeepastor, blogger and UCC pastor, posted on Philosophy Over Coffee. http://philosophyovercoffee.blogspot.ca/2005/12/blue-christmas-prayer.html

Sonnet 29 (When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes)

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
     For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
     That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

--William Shakespeare (1564-1616)