Blessing the Dust

Blessing the Dust
For Ash Wednesday

All those days
you felt like dust,
like dirt,
as if all you had to do
was turn your face
toward the wind
and be scattered
to the four corners
or swept away
by the smallest breath
as insubstantial—

did you not know
what the Holy One
can do with dust?

This is the day
we freely say
we are scorched.

This is the hour
we are marked
by what has made it
through the burning.

This is the moment
we ask for the blessing
that lives within
the ancient ashes,
that makes its home
inside the soil of
this sacred earth.

So let us be marked
not for sorrow.
And let us be marked
not for shame.
Let us be marked
not for false humility
or for thinking
we are less
than we are

but for claiming
what God can do
within the dust,
within the dirt,
within the stuff
of which the world
is made
and the stars that blaze
in our bones
and the galaxies that spiral
inside the smudge
we bear.


—Jan Richardson
“Blessing the Dust” appears in Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons.

Hang a light

Between the dark sky and the dark earth we hang a light in a dark tree and sing of our wonder together.


Quote: Pir Elias Amidon
Photo: Tien Vu

taken from A Network of Grateful Living

Created by love

 

I believe that the world was created and approved by love,
that it subsists, coheres, and endures by love, and that,
insofar as it is redeemable, it can be redeemed only by love.

 

 


Quote: Wendell Berry

 

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call (February 11th)

Soft blue of dawn even when it is Monday morning – grateful for creation’s rhythm…

thank you, David Kanigan

Live & Learn

The moon is out. The ice is gone. Patches of white
lounge on the wet meadow. Moonlit darkness at 6 a.m.

Again from the porch these blue mornings I hear an eagle’s cries
like God is out across the bay rubbing two mineral sheets together
slowly, with great pressure.

A single creature’s voice—or just the loudest one.
Others speak with eyes: they watch—
the frogs and beetles, sleepy bats, ones I can’t see.
Their watching is their own stamp on the world…

I steel myself for the day.

~ Nellie Bridge, from “February 11″ from Echotheo Review, July 18, 2011


Notes: Poem from 3 Quarks Daily. Winter Moon photo in Norway by Maren Fredagsvik

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