Where Shall We Meet?

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Day Sixteen

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I’ll meet you
on the hill
near Mother Tree
just before dawn.

And what day is this
we shall meet?

A day like any other
when sun rises
above cattails
and stream.

Well, what month
do we meet?

This one or that,
anyone that suits you,
simply the one that
brings you to me.

What shall I ferry?

A candle to light your
way until sun throws
her wisdom
along our path.

And herbs to scent
the air, and a book
of holy words to fill
our bellies.

What else?

A bowl for water
to wash away
dust of the past,
to hold precious blessings
for the present, and
discern a crystal view into
future’s quest.

Is there but one more
thing I should bear?

Your heart,
only that vessel
empty and open,
ready to be filled
with awe and wonder,
joy and reverence,
for this moment,
our union,
we will never
chance upon again.

Author’s Note:

Prompt for Day 16: NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo:

“And now for our prompt (optional, as always). Today I challenge you to take your inspiration, like our featured interviewee did in the chapbook she co-authored with Ross Gay, from the act of letter-writing. Your poem can be in the form of a letter to a person, place, or thing, or in the form of a back-and-forth correspondence.”

 

Water and Seeds

Water and Seeds
An Easter Blessing

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Deep within
I enter my garden,
winter passed,
snow melt prepares
for new life.

Barefoot I linger,
loam filters through
my fingers,
heady rich earth
to be seeded.

That which sprouted,
flowered, faded and
browned, now feeds
ground to offer new life.

I am grateful for
all that came forth
to bear my soul,
weed as well as
blossom.

My winter job to
winnow the finished,
resolved.

I hold seeds of reverence
for our Holy One.

I hold seeds of gratitude
for our Gift.

I hold seeds of joy
that I am beloved.

I hold seeds unknown
that will surprise.

I hold seeds of heirloom knowledge
to remember what once nourished.

And I hold seeds of all,
each a universe that
we may grow as One.

I inearth with all seeds
this day of beginnings.

I sing and dance with them
my delight and joy.

.

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Author’s Note:

Easter. Spring Equinox. Full Moon.

Our Holy One gifts us many paths to transformation.

Some of us have walked this Holy Week to Easter Sunday in the shoes of those who watched and were unable to stop the horrors. We can only feel the despair and pain through our eyes of experience. We wonder what can we do? How can we transform the world into a place where compassion and acceptance and love prevail? But we know the answer, the root command – love one another. It is the way to resurrecting that which has been lost or forgotten.

Some of us have watched the Moon. Light that is full, then fades. And cycles once more as it did for the ancients and now does for us, and will do for those who come after us.

Some of us welcomed a new year of growth as snow buried us deep into itself making us wonder how life can survive. Even still, we understand the need for the water it will become. And we also know that deep within where our loving God resides, we will thrive because we are beloved and abundance is always present.

All of us walk the path of resurrection, from seed to bloom to something dying in us or away from us, only to be given another chance. The Holy Wheel never ceases turning, will never abandon us.

We will plant again, hopefully transformed by what has passed. We will grow to endless possibilities of being Love and Life and Laughter.

Enjoy. Easter day is ours to revel in and to share. It is our transformation to celebrate.

Happy Easter. Joyous Spring. Stand in the glory of the Moon that lights our darkness. We are blessed.

Amen. Amen. Amen.
Lexanne

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Immutable

Why, in the end, was it a magic trickImmutable
that was needed to get my attention?
I can be so jam-headed.

At first You didn’t make sense.
A gentle healing in the same way
You are on snowfall mornings
when crystals, each one an individual
creation, brush by in winter wind
to ice my skin. Your immutable
presence underscored in deep silence
beneath the storm holding me dear.
Instead, I settled behind closed doors,
warm and safe.

I was not yet wild enough to hear
Your fathomless love song.

It’s not my sins that need to be forgiven
in an act of terror or a rising again.

It is knowing in the sweet cry of a babe
on his birth-day that we are the Same.
I know You walked on feet sore
at day’s end, slept fitful with worry,
struggled to be understood,
yearned for a gentle touch.
You were just like me.

This knowing heals my shards,
smoothes my edges, tames my fears,
what some may call forgiving my sins.

You and I are One this holy season,
this new start we begin again,
remember Grace in what You did
to realize I can do it also.

It wasn’t a magic trick in the end
that Oned us, it is the birth into this life
as we walk together.

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