Poetry Sunday

Here are some of the elements from our service this morning – April 26, 2020 (Poetry Sunday.

Prelude by David Hirst

 

CALL TO WORSHIP Teresa I. Soto
Bring your broken hallelujah here.
Bring the large one that is beyond
Repair. Bring the small one that’s
too soft to share. Bring your broken
Hallelujah here. I know that people
Have told you that before you can give
You have to get yourself together. They
Overstated the value of perfection by a
Lot. Or they forgot. You are the gift.
We all bring some broken things, songs
and dreams, and long lost hopes. But
here, and together, we reach within.
As a community, we begin again. And
from the pieces we will build something new.
There is work that only you can do. We
wait for you.

 

Joys and Concerns
Prayer By John Daniel
(A Prayer Among Friends)
Among other wonders of our lives, we are alive
with one another, we walk here
in the light of this unlikely world
that isn’t ours for long.
May we spend generously
the time we are given.
May we enact our responsibilities
as thoroughly as we enjoy
our pleasures. May we see with clarity,
may we seek a vision
that serves all beings, may we honor
the mystery surpassing our sight,
and may we hold in our hands
the gift of good work
and bear it forth whole, as we
were borne forth by a power we praise
to this one Earth, this homeland of all we love.
Amen.

 

BLESSINGS AROUND THE TABLE (Poem by Stephen M. Shick)
Early spring awakens memories of a deeper cold
and hopes of a warmer wetness,
sprouting seeds and budding branches.

Gray trees on gray sky screen eyes
from all that lies waiting:
the color of a million flowers,
the feathers of migrating songbirds,
the blossoming smiles of friends.

Soon we will no longer look to the night stars to guide us.
Soon the path will be lit and our task certain.

In the warming days we will plant our future,
uprooting useless skeletons of last year’s harvest,
breaking the clods of indifference,
carefully pulling the weeds of neglect so that roots can stretch.

Before the harvest moon rises and we wait again,
images of still distant summer days
awaken thoughts of a time when
all is done that can be done.

Then the harvest.
Then the transformation.
Then the baking.
Then the bread.

All we know and love is in this cycle.
All that has been or will be is in this loaf.

Take it.
Break it.
Give thanks
and pass it on.

 

Closing Words – Good Bones by Maggie Smith