ADAPTED FROM GURU NANAK*

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ADAPTED FROM GURU NANAK*

Do not for a moment think that

I show disrespect should you find me

Having fallen asleep with my feet pointed to the East.

Do not be angry, instead please turn them

In some other compass direction

Where our Creator does not dwell.

And if you see me in the holy Ganga

And I throw water opposite to the rising sun,

Know that I mean to show love for all my neighbors,

Wish to water the fields of my western home.

*The founder of the Sikh religion, he was born in Lahore province, the Punjab, 1469.  Although he was a great teacher, he considered himself an ordinary mortal, and wrote, "I came in the course of nature, and according to God's order I shall depart.” d. 1539.

WHAT HOPE MIRCALE!

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WHAT HOPE OF MIRACLE!

Darling, can it really be true?

Had we been so wanton in our disorder?

All I remember –  it was a Tuesday,

And very warm for the end of January.

In our house we smashed all the crystal goblets

And then proceeded to break each and every bottle,

The vintage spilled out on the floor;

It stained and then sunk into the old wooden boards.  

And at this point how does it matter?

Remember the story when Jesus at the wedding feast in Cana 

Honored His mother’s request and turned water into wine.

The party had run out of the most important beverage.

Six great jars filled to the brim (more than a hundred gallons),

Then He told the servants, ‘Now draw some out...” 

He had them take the draft to the chief steward for tasting.

And lo and behold now the new question  

Instead of first, why had the best been served last?

Would such miracle do us any good?  

Look around. Shards of glass surround us, 

Just shattered cups, and bottles whose necks are broken.

All bounty meaningless,

When nothing left, no vessel remains to contain it,

Yet Mercy attends and announces His ministry.

PSALM 51: 10-12, Freely Adapted

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PSALM 51: 10-12, Freely Adapted



Clean my heart, my Lord Almighty,
And renew right spirit within me.
Allow me to known the immediancy of Your presence,
How Your light brightens the way.
In You alone is the triumph over the darkness.
Restore for me what joy of Your creation
That I might give thanks for every breath I take. 

LET IT BE*

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LET IT BE*


Let it be the warmth of some tropical night,
Or have the winter continue its icy hold.
Whether rage or quiet possesses the heart,
Lord as You may choose.
Yet though Your every munificence was withdrawn,
You Yourself we could not lose.

*After Mary Elizabeth Coleridge


“After St. Augustine”

Sunshine let it be or frost,
Storm or calm, as Thou shalt choose;
Though Thine every gift were lost,
Thee Thyself we could not lose.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge