Lord, you are the kind ripple through these
maple leaves, and you are in the violent thrash
of rain, tearing down their branches, sending
wildflowers spiraling, seeds sown in the mayhem
of your summer strength. I can’t speak for fear
of you, for love for you, for what you have done
in stooping down to save me, in bending down
to heal me, in becoming flesh to know me.
I will never grasp it all, all of You and This, but
I hold in my fist a tangle of petals and pollen,
snatched from my restless, overgrown garden:
my wordless prayer for survival. Do not let me
be destroyed. Do not allow me to be trampled.
Revive me once again. Restore. Replenish what
has been lost during this season of upending. I
only grow beside the Light of your fire, in the
rays of your resurrected, compassionate Son.
Rachel, all I thought when I read these words was how gifted you are at taking beauty from the ashes.
Amen amen amen