The Waters of the Year

May my days be baptised in love.

I anchored myself in your harbour
and you gave me sails hand woven
to navigate the waters of the year.

You did not promise me absolutes,
that I would know the outcome
before the day I set sail, no.

You promised me your presence
at the helm.

You didn't tell me where we would
be headed,
but you have the map and are open
to suggestions.

There is a way to go but many possible
options on how to get there
and you taught me to enjoy the salty air,
watch for seagulls and how life
surprises you on any given day.

We have learned to go slow
when slow is required
and to listen for the weather.

We have learned to respect the elements
that are greater
and find ourselves in prayer.

All silent with you on deck
going with the swell,
lying on our backs and counting things celestial,
waiting for nothing,
because everything we need is here.

May my days be baptised in love.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Unsplash - Armando Castillejos

Listen to The Voyage by Amanda Cook

Connection

The prayer for this day is for connection.
To know how much you are loved
and to have no desire for riches.

To feel the pleasure of the skin you are in
and to not count your sins against yourself.

To hold no regret against others
and to live slowly in the beauty around you.

To let your loved ones love you
and to love them without strings attached.

To grow love like gardens
and share the flowers and herbs, vegetables and fruits.

To clear your home of unnecessary clutter
so that others may benefit from what you give away.

To take a risk to trust another soul
when your soul has grown tired of trusting.

To plan something new, that you have never done,
that is not unobtainable for you.

To lay down the plentiful distractions
and listen to the call of your heart

and to take a dancing step in the direction,
a small dancing step in the direction of a dream.

It is a simple thing to connect with God
with God who abides within.

Jenneth Graser

Photography - Joshua Earle - Unsplash

As a Mother Comforts

I woke up in the forest
and there she was asleep in your lap,
pine resin warming the air.

The bark of every tree defined the moment
as the texture of all that falls to sleep
in the sun.

The stream did not speak of the trials
that were to come.

The light had nothing to say about
how children can be in your lap
under the trees one moment and
in many other places
traveling for the light they have lost
the next.

We can remember as if there.

It is good to feel yourself a child
in the bosom of your mother, held.

It is good to remember the arms around
and the lap that comforts.

It is good to hear the melodies that
sing over your head into sleep.

God is the Mother of our past.
God is the Mother of our future.
And here God is, in all that aches under the sun,
And here we are, at rest.

Jenneth Graser

"As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; and you will be comforted..." Isaiah 66:13

Mother Holding Child, Platinum print, circa 1915 [Photo from the Rodger Kingston Collection]

Flow

Leaves have trembled
across my field of vision,
the shadows too. Is it light or dark
or a combination?

I have grown to love the shadows.
I wouldn't have it any other way.

A leaf is only ready to drop
off the tree when new seasons
call.
And then there is nothing to be done
but fall,
accept.

The water can only flow
when the rains come.
Then the debris that has collected
at the mouth, will have no choice
but to be taken by the surge,
will have no choice
but to move
out of the way.

I am in love with rivers at this time of year.
You don't have to try in any way,
the water tells the story.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Jenneth Graser (Jubilee Creek, Knysna)