Help me choose
to watch the white sun rise and pink the clouds,
to light the candles at evening,
to do the dishes, to close only
the screen door of my heart.
Let me observe
the daily graces, even when
bright hope blurs in some dank fog.
Burn on, Holy Fire,
Comforter, inspire
each small act with prayer, with praise:
each quiet mingling of desperation and mercy.
to watch the white sun rise and pink the clouds,
to light the candles at evening,
to do the dishes, to close only
the screen door of my heart.
Let me observe
the daily graces, even when
bright hope blurs in some dank fog.
Burn on, Holy Fire,
Comforter, inspire
each small act with prayer, with praise:
each quiet mingling of desperation and mercy.
Amen. And yes to the daily graces.
ReplyDeleteAnd this reader is not unfamiliar with what you have called, with devastating accuracy, "[the] quiet mingling of desperation and mercy."
With you in solidarity, in thanksgiving, and in that often agonizing virtue that we call hope.
Thank you, Thomas ~
DeleteHave you read Therese of Liseux's (the Little Flower) biography/writings? I think you would love this saint of the little things.
ReplyDeleteNo, but I'm intrigued. Thank you for the recommendation!
Delete