Blessing of the Willow
I have gathered my prayers
Rich sans script text on cotton rag
Bound in tooled Italian calfskin
Attributed, acknowledged, abridged
But not what I wanted to pray.
I have gathered my prayers
Iconic imagery in detailed stone,
Paint on canvas, hand carved wood.
Visualised, tactile, idealised
Yet not what I wanted to pray.
I have gathered my prayers
Exotic incenses, fragrant candles,
Oriental oils and balms
Perfumed, aromatic, miasmic
Still not what I wanted to pray.
I stood at the window
Dumbstruck, tongue-tied
Full of unspeakable words
And I saw her in the garden
Praying.
Complete in herself
Firmly planted in the earth that
Gave her life.
Arms raised to the light of Heaven.
Bare faced against the elements.
I watched as her heart called out
To the God who made her
In joyful thanks
For her place in the Pattern
For her chord in the Song.
I felt the Spirit bless her
Loving fingers through her hair
Along the length of her body
Whispering Creation’s secrets
Sharing in the Word of Life.
Then I went into the garden
Words pouring from heart and mind
A true call from self, from longing
I spread my arms beside the willow tree
And joined her in her prayer.
wordinthehand2012
