On Waking

October 4, 2020

The Feast of Saint Francis

Seattle, WA

I most often find myself writing prose: sermons and newsletter articles and reports and blog posts. Today, Spirit guided me down a path littered with words that, when picked up, formed this poem.

On Waking

As the day dawns

   our spirits stir long before our minds and bodies awaken. 

In that stirring lies what is our truth.

Fears born of seasons past, yet with eyes cast, warily, to what is yet to be.

Joys woven in all we have known and loved and all that has loved us in return.

Confidence that comes from being loved without condition and the doubt that stalks us when we are not.

Love that has sustained us in every past trial, when we waded into too deep waters and love that shores us up, sufficient for the day.

With their opening, our eyes blink away the essence of what our spirits carry.  The soldiers of resilience awaken and come to attention, aiming their weapons at all that feels as enemy, even while our spirits gently bear our truth into the new dawning.