It's not a straight shot, writing. There is a lot of poking around in files, assembling pages of ideas - words scribbled on note pads while at the grocery store, words from a post it note in the car driving to the office, and more words from an email I wrote to myself last week when something important emerged - there is visiting old books where I know there is a good story...there is a lot of musing...a lot of wondering and wandering around until eventually, by deadline, it all comes together as it is, this time.
Today is a writing day...and while looking for a prayer I wrote years ago that will be perfect for this Sunday, I found this one that I shared in 2006 when I was ministerial intern at the First Universalist Society in Franklin. The beginning words are mine. The prayer itself is the creation of Andrea Ayvavian.
May it be so.
Prayer
for May 14, 2006
Let
us now take some of our time together to find that place within or around us
Where
in silence Deep calls to Deep
Where
Imagination speaks her wishes
Where
we say our most precious prayers
Where
we are one with all of existence
Where
we come, at last, to be still, while Creation takes care of the rest.
When
you hear my voice again, the words you will hear are those of Andrea Ayvavian:
if
we dug a huge grave miles wide, miles deep
and
buried every rifle, pistol, knife, bullet, bomb, bayonet
if
we jumped upon fleets of tanks and fighter jets
with
tool boxes, torches
unwelded
them dismantled them turned them into scrap metal
if
every light-skinned man in a silk tie said
to
every dark-skinned man in a turban
I
vow not to kill your children
and
heard the same vow in return
if
every elected leader agreed to stop lying
if
every child was fed as well as racehorses bred to win derbies
if
very person with a second home gave it to a person with no home
if
every mother buried her parents not her sons and daughters
if
every person who has enough said out loud I have enough
if
every person violent in the name of God were to find God
we
would grow silent, still for a moment, a lifetime
we
would hear infants nursing at the breast
hummingbirds
hovering in flight
we
would touch a canyon wall and feel the earth vibrate
we
would hear two lovers sigh across the ocean
we
would watch old wounds grow new flesh and jagged scars disappear
as
time was layered upon time we would slowly be ready to begin.
Amen.
So may it be. Namaste.
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