Saturday in Lent 2 - 2017

Here is another prayer from the dot matrix days, the first of two with this theme.

Daily Invocation of the Most Holy Trinity

O Source of all Being, Fountain of Life, and Wellspring of the Godhead: You are the very Ground and Energy of Love; the overflowing of your Joy created the worlds and we are held in existence by your Good Pleasure; mercifully grant that I may this day draw water with rejoicing from the spring of salvation, giving thanks to you and calling upon your Name.

O Savior and Sustainer of all, Bread of Life and True Vine, Light of the world and mighty Word by whom we are named; You give yourself for the life of the world; reveal unto me my own self and the Heart of your boundless Love; deliver me this day from every bond of evil and death that, forsaking all, I may follow you and, by your Passion and Death, come unto Life everlasting.

O Sanctifier and Life-giving Wind, Bringer of Wholeness, Unction and Healing; You bind all things together and renew all creation, cleansing your children and leading them into Truth; pattern my life this day in your graces and strengthen me for obedient service; lift my heart unto the Divine Presence where I may be one with the Fire of your Love.

Most Holy Trinity, you formed me in your image, raising me from the dust to give you glory; I bow my heart before the radiant splendor of your gracious goodness, committing myself wholly to your merciful compassion; draw me unto yourself and conform me unto your will as I proclaim with angels: Holy, holy, holy are you, O God; to you be glory for ever and ever.  Amen.

This is another of the prayers I composed in the 80s.  Some underlying factors were a desire not to use gendered language referring to God; a practical application of faith by repetition of "this day"; and, of course, an affective piety that is intrinsic to me.

Three decades later, I might have phrased things differently but I have no difficulty praying this prayer now.

--the BB

Friday in Lent 2 - 2017

This is one of several prayers that I wrote for a personal Book of Hours back when my Macintosh computer was primitive and everything was printed on a dot-matrix printer.  I find that the prayers hold up well for my own piety.  I plan to share some of them over the next few days.  This one seems apt for a Friday.

Beside Each Other

Remember that second night?

We were too tired for lovemaking,

both of us exhausted

(so many nights of unfulfilled yearning).

We kissed, cuddled, and crashed.

That night I did not hold you in my arms;

we lay beside each other—

free, happy, unafraid, content—

and slept

nine long delicious hours.

This morning, recalling

that night of utter peace

I unclasped my arms

from the beloved pillow,

lay beside it, my cheek touching,

and smiled.

Better not to control

the uncontrollable—

none can—

so I rested

imagining you resting

free

happy

unafraid

content

and I breathed the morning air

grateful for the time

our hearts made love

as we slept.

Lovemaking is associated with sabbath, so for this Saturday I thought I would toss one in.  It's my own (© me).  And I think I shall refrain from commentary.

--the BB

Friday in Lent 1 - 2017

Limites

Hay una linea de Verlaine que no volveré a recordar,
Hay una calle próxima que está vedada a mis pasos,
Hay un espejo que me ha visto por última vez,
Hay una puerta que he cerrado hasta el fin del mundo.
Entre los libros de mi biblioteca (estoy viéndolos)
Hay alguno que ya nunca abriré.
Este verano cumpliré cincuenta años:
La muerte me desgasta, incesamente.
--Jorge Luis Borges

Limits

There's a line of Verlaine's
       that I'm not going to remember again.
There's a nearby street that's forbidden to my footsteps.
There's a mirror that has seen me for the last time.
There's a door I've closed until the end of the world.
Among the books in my library (I'm looking at them)
There are some I'll never open again.
This summer I'll be fifty years old:
Death invades me, constantly.

We in the West begin Lent with the sign of ashes to remind us we are mortal.  And then, the next day, do we resume our ordinary round of activities, having nodded in the direction of such an ineluctable fact?

By merest chance, an accident when I was fifteen made me aware of my mortality far earlier than happens with most people.  From that moment on, I knew that the next day was never guaranteed.

Mind you, I am not someone who accepts limits gracefully.  While I may not always want everything right now, I do want it all. As an incarnate being, I am given reminders by my body that I have limits. Today is one of those days when I ache in my many spots. Each shoulder in its own way, the span of my back between my shoulders, my lower back, my right leg (the one with sciatica).  Oh, and a headache from late afternoon onward. The skin on my forearms bruises more easily and I now have what I recognize as old man skin.  Although I have long legs and friends used to urge me to slow down my pace, I now find students at the university passing me by briskly as I amble along at a sedate pace more appropriate for septuagenarians.   I have saved money for two years for a trip to Europe this summer and I am acutely aware that, funds being limited, it may be the last trip to Europe.  I want to think otherwise but, realistically, I do not see serious travel funding without raiding my IRA.  You know what these are? First world problems.  I have a home, clothing, transportation, reasonable health, and no food insecurity. I enjoy more comforts and opportunities than most people will ever see.  And, even so, I chafe at limits.

Well, I might was well accept them.  They are not going away.

And I am blessed beyond all telling.

Dust.

--the BB