tired of stumbling

So let us pick up the stones over which we stumble, friends, and build altars. Let us listen to the sound of breath in our bodies. Let us listen to the sounds of our own voices, of our own names, of our own fears. Let’s claw ourselves out from the graves we’ve dug. Let’s lick the earth from our fingers. Let us look up and out and around. The world is big and wide and wild and wonderful and wicked, and our lives are murky, magnificent, malleable, and full of meaning. Oremus. Let us pray.”

                                                                        Pádraig Ó Tuama:

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I am tired of stumbling

I am tired of wallowing in the muck

of fear and doubt

I am tired of that endless cycle

of digging my own grave,

and then having to recover

there is more to life that drudgery

we were put here for a purpose

put here

to build altars and worship

put here to listen to the song of the Sacred

put here to find our own voices

and sing the song of love

it is time to stand

even when the ground is sandy

even when the wind of hate blows harshly

and lies assail us like hail

It is time to stand

Even though the darkness encroached

Enough!

Enough silence

Enough cowering

Enough watching

As others are buried by others

Beneath the heavy debris of prejudice and greed, and ego

Enough

“The world is big and wide and wild and wonderful and wicked,

 and our lives are murky, magnificent, malleable,

and full of meaning.”  (Tuama)

And God is around us

And in us

And for us

And with us

So let look up

And out

And around

And even as the dirt of the grave still clings

Be

children of God

because that is what we ALL are.