Spirit of Life, Radiant Mystery,
Source of all that is good and holy:
I confess to a certain weariness of spirit.
Just as we were beginning to recover
from the other disasters,
another shooting.
And since the rains have still not come
the power will be turned off
again.
And people who should love one another
and speak with kindness
or at least civility
are shouting in rage
and flouncing away–
forever!–they say
from their circles of love and support.
What is to become of us?
I long to pray to an omnipotent god
who would fix all this
if we just said the right words
But since that is not an option
I take myself
to the running waters
and listen to their song.
I call my dear friend
and listen to their beautiful voice.
And I sit with a four-year-old child
and read our favorite story.
Salvation is not something grand
heralded with trumpets;
It is instead effected by
a hundred small things:
The good dinner on a beautiful table,
a small child bouncing on your belly,
a dog chewing a bone against your leg.
The way water slides over smooth stone
over and over again but
never exactly
the same way twice.
The way the ravens converse
as they fly over the neighborhood
talking to each other
at the end of the day.
The way moss springs to life
the moment
it is touched
by rain.
Spirit of Life,
let me be saved by these small things.
Blessed be.