We bloomed in Spring
Our bodies are the leaves of God
The apparent seasons of life and death
Our eyes can suffer;
But our souls, dear, I will just say this forthright:
they are God
Himself
We will never perish
Unless God
Does
St. Teresa of Avila
_________________________________________
O Lord
for many the celebration is over
the trees are looking dry and tired
the presents are opened, and
the food consumed
Already people begin
to turn away from the season
(although strictly speaking, there are 12 days to celebrate)
and perhaps
from one another too,
as families scatter
that momentary togetherness gone
off to their offices
or to their rooms
back to lives as usual
how quickly, O Beloved
we turn back into our daily lives
how quickly, too, we lose our sense of you
that sense of presence
which is, after all, what the season is all about
You with us
Real
Palatable
The insistent crying of a baby in the night
How quickly, O Beloved,
we return to fear and all that goes with it
How quickly we return to hate, violence, judgement and
exclusion
And fail to remember
that You are with us always
That we participate in you, (or you in us, I am never sure)
You are birthed in us
and we are never alone
We carry you, cling to you,
Much as Mary clung to the baby,
And that even though the unreality of Christmas is over
The reality of Christmas
Remains
And that reality,
That we are loved by God
And we can love ourselves and others.
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