(This prayer was inspired by a poem from Mary Oliver, “The World I Live In,” a copy of which I have not yet found on the interwebs, and thus cannot link to it.)
May the Spirit of Meditation and Prayer Touch Us Gently Now
Divine Spark, Gracious God, Hope Renewing,
We gather this day, angels in our heads:
may we be open to recognizing them.
Or perhaps angels absent from our heads,
yet hearts open to earthly versions
of miracles, of generosity,
of love beyond our own small selves.
Most of all, miracles of humility,
for with these words of our mouths,
with these meditation of our hearts,
we wonder aloud:
In what form will Spirit appear to us today?
In what form will Spirit appear to me today?
How might we wash the mud from our eyes,
that we might see clearly the hidden gifts in the chaos,
amid the cynicism, the selfish profit, the tragedy?
How might we turn our gaze, perhaps even whole bodies,
to the sources of delight and inspiration, available to us,
imagination and courage, sacred stillness and surprising connection?
How might we surrender to our place in the vast cosmos,
the strange mix that does not reveal the depths and breadths
of its true nature to mere mortals such as we are,
yet begs us choose to see angels and generosity,
beloveds in the midst of the unknown,
and life singing its song of creation?
We hold now in gratitude those who have shared their candle of joy, as well as those whose such flame is lit in the cozy, private nook of their own heart:
We hold now in comfort those who have shared their candle of sorrow, as well as those whose such flames is lit in the aching corner of their own heart:
Let us now turn to the prayers of our own hearts…