Listening for the Word

 The Journey 

  

Above the mountains
the geese turn into
the light again
painting their
black silhouettes
on an open sky.

Sometimes everything
has to be inscribed across
the heavens
so you can find
the one line
already written
inside you.

Sometimes it takes
a great sky
to find that
small bright
and indescribable
wedge of freedom
in your own heart.

~ David Whyte

First Sip   

    

I do love seeing the full (or close to full) moon in the dark morning sky, and I was quite surprised to receive this poem this morning. Actually, I do not think surprised is the right word. I really do not believe in coincidences much any more. 

Last week, I had a snippet of a song roaming around my mind, "This Is My Commandment", but I could not find it in any hymnal. Then, on Friday, a volunteer pianist and I visited a community that serves elders who have been diagnosed with a mental illness. Many of those who gather with us enjoy singing, and some do so with great gusto. The staff member who helps gather people in also loves singing, so we generally have a good time.  After worship, she asked if anyone had a song request. One man, who spoke so quietly that I had to draw close to him to hear, said that he "had one" but he was having some trouble remembering what it was. I tried to assure him that it would come to him. I then heard him haltingly sing the words, "This is my commandment". The woman sitting next to him recognized the song and amplified his singing which brought both him and me much happiness. Then we joyfully sang it together. In that moment, freedom surfaced, and I gave thanks for these group efforts that remind us that Jesus is always present, knitting us together in surprising ways.

   

The sky is now a beautiful pink, and the moon, while still visible, is slightly veiled by a thin veneer of clouds. The birds have begun their morning songs. As precarious as the journeys must have been for our early ancestors, I believe they looked up, and often celebrated the sky that taught them the signs of changing weather and seasons. Like us, they needed both the sky and one another. I am grateful for all these lessons.  

Yes, gratitude is the word I was looking for.  

 

"I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you and your joy will be complete."   

John 15:11

image: Hunter Moon, San Leandro

Adventuring

 I think this is the first time I have smiled while reading a David Whyte poem.  I recently read, and alas I cannot remember where, that our souls are actually adventurous.  I love that description. Whyte's poem reminds me that healing can be found in being courageous.  We are being led into wholeness.  Last night I heard the words, "Honor the body." The body, while one day will be shed,  for now is our temple and our vehicle.  Let us tend to them with care. 

Today I hear the call to kindness, and I smile.     

 

Blessings this Holy Week.    

My courageous life

has gone ahead
and is looking back,
calling me on.

My courageous life
has seen everything
I have been
and everything
I have not
and has
forgiven me,
day after day.

My courageous life
still wants
my company:
wants me to
understand
my life as witness
and thus
bequeath me
the way ahead.

My courageous life
has the patience
to keep teaching me,
how to invent
my own
disappearance,
and how
once gone,
to reappear again.

My courageous life
wants to stop
being ahead of me
so that it can lie
down and rest
deep inside the body
it has been
calling on.

My courageous life
wants to be
my foundation,
showing me
day after day
even against my will

how to undo myself,
how to surpass myself,
how to laugh as I go
in the face
of danger,
how to invite
the right kind
of perilous
love,
how to find
a way
to die
of generosity.

~ David Whyte  

www.claudiacummins.com

   

    

image: Redwood City, 2022