Christmas Benediction: Our Savior born; a seed planted

Our Savior born.
A seed planted.
Roots driven into the earth.
Soil quakes.
A mighty tree shoots toward the heavens.
Branches sprout, extending hands of praise.
Leaves flower, shouting glory and grace.

The family tree made complete.
Singular.
All-encompassing.
Perfect.

God the Father.
We the family.

Brothers, sisters, kindred.
The seed has been planted.
And we are one.
Halleluia.


-- adapted from a benediction written by Mike Yager, and posted on Ecclesia Houston. 

now all the fingers of this tree(darling)have

now all the fingers of this tree(darling)have

hands, and all the hands have people; and
more each particular person is(my love)
alive than every world can understand

and now you are and i am now and we're
a mystery which will never happen again,
a miracle which has never happened before–
and shining this our now must come to then

our then shall be some darkness during which
fingers are without hands; and i have no
you: and all trees are(any more than each
leafless)its silent in forevering snow

—but never fear(my own, my beautiful
my blossoming)for also then's until

-- e. e. Cummings, (1894-1962), American poet, from 100 Poems

Cloud Anthem

Until we are clouds that tear like bread but 
mend like bones. Until we weave each other
Like silk sheets shrouding mountains, or bear
gales that shear us. Until we soften our hard
edges, free to become any shape imaginable:
a rose or an angel crafted by the breeze like
papier-mache or a lion or dragon like marble
chiseled by gusts. Until we scatter ourselves –
pebbles of grey puffs, but then band together
like stringed pearls. Until we learn to listen to
each other, as thunderous as opera or as soft
as a showered lullaby. Until we truly treasure
the sunset, lavish it in mauve, rust, and rose.
Until we have the courage to vanish like sails
into the horizon, or at peace, anchored still.
Until we move without any measure, as vast
as continents or as petite as islands, floating
in an abyss of virtual blue we belong to. Until
we danced tango with the moon and comfort
the jealous stars, falling. Until we care enough
for the earth to bless it as morning fog. Until
we realize we're muddy as puddles, pristine
as lakes not yet clouds. Until we remember
we are born from rivers and dewdrops. Until
we are at ease to dissolve as wispy showers,
not always needing to clash like godly yells
of thunder. Until we believe lightning roots
are not our right to the ground. Though we
collude into storms that ravage, we can also
sprinkle ourselves like memories. Until we
tame the riot of our tornadoes, settle down
into a soft drizzle, into a daydream. Though
we may curse with hail, we can absolve with
snowflakes. We can die valiant as rainbows,
and hold light in our lucid bodies like blood.
We can decide to move boundlessly, without
creed or desire. Until we are clouds meshed
within cloud sharing a kingdom with no king,
a city with no walls, a country with no name,
a nation without any borders or claim. Until
we abide as one together in one single sky.

--Richard Blanco (1968- ), Cuban-American LGBTQ poet and teacher, from Poems of Resistance, Poems of Hope, edited by Naoli Shihab Nye, 2020.

Prayer for Unity in Pandemic

God of the Sparrow, God of the Wren,

God of the Honeybee toiling with purpose
among the blossoming fields,
pitch your tent among us today,
and lead us into holiness, empathy, and truth.

Abiding One,
may we make your wisdom our nourishment;
may we be led by compassion against fear,
and live into unity with each other.
May we bear each other's burden with generous hearts,
and, strengthened by your love and constancy,
resist the death-normalizing ways of fear and faithlessness.

May we care for each other with one accord,
and testify to the power of your hope, O God.

Comfort the weary and strengthen the healers,
O Merciful One,
and grant the blessing of your Spirit
to all who turn to You in supplication,
especially those we now name.

Amen.

A Psalm to Wisdom

In the pouring forth of wisdom 
   all things have their being; 
   wisdom in my shining, 
   wisdom beyond me shining. 

All things are branches 
   of the Tree of wisdom 
   wisdom in me growing, 
   wisdom beyond me growing. 

In the circle of being 
   all things share a blessing; 
   wisdom in me turning, 
   wisdom beyond me turning.

-- Chinook prayer, from Chinook Psalter II, ed. by Lee Henderson, found at Friends of Silence.