Archive | Prayers

A sorrow hushed. . . the holocaust. . .

 

 

A sorrow hushed. . . the holocaust. . .

My ears cleaved to the door frame
of the dining room. Her whisper was hoarse,
were there many?
Lots, he said, lots, as he held the letter
that told him what they saw.  Speaking
in broken English, he continued.
They pushed for space, women and children
and their men. They wanted to see.
My people saw he said.

Their words burned my brain
as I strained to listen, afraid I wouldn’t
catch a sorrow hushed.  It didn’t last long
he said, because they fell.  Matko Bosko she said.
Remember our history he said.
As if that could explain what I heard.

And I knew the god they called
upon to save them from whatever they feared.
He whispered again, somehow trying to
make this horrid time an all right matter.
My people saw them, he kept saying.

And I loved those parents who made things
seem right yet what my heart knew was evil
and my head fought them and argued
till I would vomit.  We would go
into holy week and pray just as
my cousins across the waters who saw
what was done went back to their tables
and supped as if nothing had happened.

These were friends and relatives
whose prayers were different and
they said that made them different than us.
And the us that I was born into made me
ashamed and sick to my stomach and I kneeled
in front of the toilet and emptied my shame
washed with the tears of I am so sorry
and threw up all of my ten years

and so went my trust.

 

(Much of what was happening at that time was what I overheard to be Poland’s part in the holocaust.  Relatives wrote what was happening there.  Being an ailing child at home led me to listen carefully to everything.   The whispered conversations were fewer and not fully understood until as an adult I happened upon Winter Journey by Diane Armstrong. The impact on me was visceral.  The memories connected with family at that time rushed to surface.  These events were deep in the knowledgeable ten year old I was who was frightened and ashamed.  How does one live with shame?  )

 

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Love and Beauty. . .right to life. . .

Emma E. has been promoted to a step down to less intensive care.  She is at 37 weeks and two days ago was at 3 lbs 13 oz.  The camera could only catch what was in the heart of the photographer.  The love and beauty of both are palpable.  They should be every child’s right to life.

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A Time For Making Peace. . .

Our Prayer. . .

When words have been shouted and have struck hearts forever changed,  we gather our resources from within and count on Grace Given by thoughtful minds that harbor goodwill.  We pray to what we hold highest and best that we meet challenges that bring the changes needed. And we do not discount nor dismiss our part in those changes that count on us to be the example.  We begin now to pull our actions and words through our hearts so there will be no doubt to our intentions for good.

 

A Time For Making Peace. . .

It is time for making peace;
for actions that struck
the core of the heart. . .
for words that sucked life
out of a body still intent on breathing.

Those were actions and words
that should have been vented
when anguish and outrage
stole the child’s innocence.

And now with the ends
of the circle tightly knotting
we quietly say our thanks.

For the Grace given
by understanding hearts
in the heat of the fire.
Of love ventured into arms
needing the close embrace
of a forgiving Other.

It all comes full circle.
And we step out and
the merry go round stops
for a time.  Until again

our zest for life is renewed.

 

 

photo by John  Holmes

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A Cosmic Experience. . .

From a past journal entry. . . emotions become a burden needing to be understood before they are shrugged.  Once understood they become integrated and no longer need to be carried.

To understand the fullness of humanity is the first step toward the cosmic experience.  When the feelings become more than the human body can carry,  the heavens step in and with one fell swoop,  open the understanding toward greater truths.

And those truths need to be examined and placed in context of the person who is exposed.

A Cosmic Prayer for Mankind

We would wish for much.
We would wish
for the sublime love
that was preached
from every mountaintop.

We would wish
for a mother’s love
to be there for the infant
and the father’s hand
to caress the brow of every child.

We would wish for peace
within the human psyche
and learning to be brought
to the dinner table
and the breakfast table every time.
And love to be served
as the main course.

It is much that
we wish for;
much that we yearn for.
But peace is designed
for the human in mind
from birth to the grave.

Bring peace.

 

photo by
Joe Hallissey Sr.

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With Peace As Natural As Breath To Us. . . .

From my heart to yours,  I send my Christmas message.  In this holiest of seasons, where the desire for peace nudges all hearts no matter their persuasion,  let us give way to these highest and best of all emotions and act upon them.  By acting upon them until they are second nature to us,  in time they will be what they were meant to be;  peace as natural as breath to life.  Blessings,  Veronica

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With Immense Gratitude, Happy Thanksgiving. . . .

Thanksgiving

As I prepare to pack and ready myself for the journey to the opposite coast,  there will be a lull on this blog for awhile.  The children I live with wish to prepare quarters for me to avoid disruption again and I appreciate their concern.  My other son will be accompanying me and overseeing  and since I lack the necessary talent for earth traveling,  his presence in this I welcome.  I can swim universal seas,  but simple itineraries and getting from one place to another I get lost.  I solved the problem during my driving days (believe it) by only making right turns.  The one time I did a left turn a local gendarme yodeled me to a stop with a ticket.  He was one of my sons’ school buddies now turned police patrol and said,  Mrs. Hallissey,  you have lived here for over 25 years,  you know you cannot make a left turn after 3 o’clock!  If I did,  I did not know it then.  Yes I paid the fine.  So you see,  all my children know me well.  They are the jewels in my crown.   And yes, when the time came,  I happily overhauled the vehicle to make it new and gave it to a grandson as a graduation present.  And have never missed driving.  The Teachers at the time gave a big sigh of  relief I suppose too.

So until we are ensconced in our new home,  and my computer set up,  I will ask that you keep me in mind.  I will be able to get messages and will appreciate them.  Until then I lift my head to my Source and ask that ‘The Light shine between Me and Thee while we are absent, one from the Other.  I give my blessing upon All visible and invisible and ask for your blessing also.  In All Names Good,  I pray and ask.  Amen and amen.’  With immense gratitude,  this Thanksgiving,  I give again, . . . .

How Much Of a Difference. . .

It was morning
though the night still hung heavy,
the clouds hovered,
the sun unable to rise.

The children gathered for breakfast,
morose, unhappy and angry,
heavy still with sleep.
Mother looked with unhappy eyes
and father, already delayed
flew out the door.

What could she plan
for this crew this night
as she scrutinized each face
when they exited.

That night the same faces
appeared to sup together,
hostile, unable to summon
the good things of the day.
Seated, they glowered
and the mother, with hope
passed the platter.

Have some love, she murmured,
as she handed the platter to the eldest.
Puzzled, he helped himself
and in unbelief said to his sibling,
have some love.

And around the table the faces changed
as the platter of love was passed and
with a whisper bestowed
its blessing by each one.
The father then picked up a plate to share
and to his surprise murmured, I bring peace.

And around the table peace was passed
to accompany the main course of love
and talks resumed and the world
was given another chance.

On a level we cannot enter,
we cannot know how much of a difference
it takes to make a difference.

Or how little.

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The All is Essence. . .

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Prayer To The Essence of The Great God

To the essence of the great and holy god,
we offer ourselves in our bounty and
in our sorrows.  We ask that we be
allowed to enter with all that we are
and all we hope we can be.

Let us lift our heads
to the glories of the day and
allow us always to see
the brightness that surrounds us.
Ask us  in our gratitude
that we look to serve those
less fortunate while always seeing
to those to whom we are committed.

Let us be wise in our choices
and sensitive in our feelings.
We ask in times of need and
in times of great gratitude
that we neglect no one in our care.

In all names we ask and
in all names we wholly, holy, blend.
Take us as we are,

for we are on our knees.  Amen and amen.

photo by
John Holmes

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