A Prayer for All Creatives

I have paced myself with the paces of exuberance

and littered the floor with scrumpled-up papers.

I’ve peeled myself like a ripe fruit

and shared the segments, squeezed out juices.

Of grace, I have wondered upon

and peered between the slats of your kingdom,

but  you have been to me closer than

what is cherished as close

and have shown me the kingdom within.

You have handed me brushes, and a palette of colours,

You have reached out to take my hand

and kept my hand in your hand.

You are not in a hurry

and wait to hear my voice as it stumbles

in wave upon wave on the tide of your shores.

You have handed me a pen, and some paper on a table

and you have shown me the garden, on the edge of attention.

We have breathed the same breath, under the pre-dawn light

and thought the same thoughts, trembling on what begins.

There are times when your face alone is enough for my heart,

because the words have lain down, and gone into hibernation.

And when this comes, I mustn’t fight it, but take it instead

as the most intimate of invitations.

I feel the turning of what must be borne,

as it grows and lurches deep down

And finds its first breath when we least expect it,

howling to come out and make itself known.

So untidy, we are not made for perfection,

but find our truest expression when we run into ourselves,

to find the Son there is rising.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Johannes Plenio Pexels

Waking Up

I find you under crushed weeds lining the path
of our morning rambles.

Someone got here first and strew them out of the way,
pulled up by the roots.

How many things are you pulling up by the root
to reveal the turned over loam in us?

The sun briskly challenges the mountain,
which cannot hold back the pure poured-out light

generously misting the dew amongst reeds,
all standing like champions and witnesses.

I am being attended by the chorus of rooster,
a playful enterprise of birds so unafraid.

My prayers tumble out of my mouth
into the cracks of the valley, exposing lies for lies,
truth for truth.

We can walk here and stop being fearful of
what could be lurking in every unknown future.

We can run here and feel what it is to
have the blood surge through our muscles,

reminding us that we are a body too,
a temple called into the holy of a body-made prayer.

First thing in the morning, when the sun is bursting
at its seams with enthusiasm and there is

so much breath puffing out like clouds
all over the trails, and the day is waking, waking,
waking up all over the place.

I am waking up too.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Ban Yido Unsplash

The Silent Place - a prayer

I pray to be lifted in beauty,
to see the cool bright day before me
and take in the music of garden,
the distant murmur of the sea.

To remember the stars above my head
whenever I waken
and the moon slowly turning
around the planet turning too.

To remember the continents afloat
and the sands over the mountain
at the beck and call of waves.

To enjoy each breath I am afforded
and to smile more than I have, to smile in the eyes.

To smell the freshness of time in the morning
instead of feeling chased all my life.

To learn the meaning of rest in a given moment
and to give back generously.

I am seeking to throw off this old skin that
hinders movement.

May I be born all over again
and see everything for the first time?

May I be able to appreciate the
glorious life I've been offered?

May I take your hands and be led
in peace and quiet even though there
is a noise, a chaos all around me.

Let me be in the silent place
of knowing I am loved.

Amen.

Jenneth Graser

Photography - Bethany Legg Unsplash

A Psalm of Noticing

Lord you are the author of the green leaf
and the turning of its colour.

You lay me down in the grasses
to take in the zest of the earth.

Contemplation is among us now
in the living of quiet things.

The brilliant shiny blue shell of a beetle
with contrasting orange body, whirs out of confinement.

Lord, you are my teacher from creation
leading me on paths worn well.

You also invite me on the upward ways
not many are inclined to take.

Noticing the blessings I see in nature
trains me to become more aware within.

Not everything has beauty, but once you touch
these things with your hands, it all gains perspective.

Lord, you are my abiding Person of mystery
and my greatest friend of all description.

You are always a place to come home to
and at the same time, my pilgrim adventure.

Amen.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Micah Hallahan Unsplash

We Have Found a Good Home

Our hands lay palms upon knees
and we have rested.

Breath upon breath
and we have listened.

Hope leads to greater hope
and we have moved quietly.

It all comes to us gradually
that we belong.

We have searched
until we realise we are found.

We knock
and the door opens wide.

We have stopped looking
for meaning elsewhere.

We have found a good home
here.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Arno Smit

Where I Truly Belong

I wake up to the aliveness of you

You have made me a Child of your own

There isn't a moment of less than another

We are all equally Beloved.

You are not distant as I sometimes imagine

Hope is real in the embrace of your arms

When I feel tired and full of regret

You lift me higher than I've ever been.

I am coming back to first love

And to a love going deeper mature

I am coming to the door of your knocking

And opening wide for you to come in.

The music will always be singing within me

Worship to you is ingrained in my heart

You appear in disguise in my dreams of the night

I am not hidden or lost in your eyes.

You have a unique plan and purpose for our lives

We are not losing the path or the way

Because you said that your sheep know your voice

And you are the Way and the Truth and the Life.

I am coming back to awareness

Putting all else aside, getting rid of distractions

I am entering the holy of holies

And finding myself where I truly belong.

Amen.

Jenneth Graser

Photo by Pablo Heimplatz on Unsplash

May We Rise

May we rise
As eagles who lean on thermals.

May we rise into the music,
Into the sky and higher.

May we rise
Above the turbulent waters of many conflicts,
Above the need to figure it all out.

May we rise above the thirsty earth,
Above the insatiable need for more
And then higher.

May we rise above the past, present, future
And breathe through timeless places.

May we rise into the great company
Of witnesses, all welcoming.

May we rise into the essence of prayer
And unconditional being.

May we rise into the fragrance of worship
Where every note creates a new possibility.

May we rise into Ascension,
May we rise in resurrection.

And there let us be taken
On the thermals of many praises
Where only higher we may find ourselves
At one with all Love is.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Amonn Maguire

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

The Prayer of Observation

In the morning of our contemplation

we watch for the pale sky

on nothing but a seamless now.

We lose ourselves in the prayers of observation

where hibiscus petals unfurl nectar havens

waiting for bees,

and every blade of grass is felt under our feet.

The early sun is drawing us higher

where spirits merge with yours.

Lying on our backs we feel the earth 

beneath,

but it is the sky drawing pictures of birds

whirling into breakfast,

it is the clouds with no hurry

that hold our attention.

And it is ourselves we find no longer jaded

created on a morning in Eden

so many years ago, breathed from clay

into life.

Jenneth Graser

You Will Fill This Temple

You have drawn us out of the room into the house,
so that we may see with fresh eyes
what we have been storing.

We have opened the windows,
so that the freshness of air
may find its way into every place.

You have called to us through our devotions,
through the mystery of art and song,
we have listened for you in each scripture.

We have come to the throne of grace,
ever spacious and welcoming,
with the contents of our temple, offered.

We have invited your Spirit into every place
and have opened the realms of our mind
to your breath.

These are the days of Lent
and we have learned that it bears no fruit
to be too hard on ourselves.

So we have brought ourselves to you
in humble self reflection and glorious adoration
and you will fill this temple anew.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Gaby Stein

Listen to You're Gonna Be Okay by Jenn Johnson

The Turning of Lenten Days

Be closer to me now dear Lord,

than at any other time.

If I pour the oils of frankincense and myrrh 

over my heart,

and step into the water living,

I will hear the questions asked

for the turning of Lenten days.

What will you relinquish?

What will you receive?

Do we fast from unforgiveness

when we see your blood on the stones 

of the stations of the cross,

blood that has paid?

Lord, I have become a listener

to every question you may ask.

I do not watch from the sidelines,

but make myself available to you.

I do not know all of the answers, yes.

But it is enough to travel the road of Lent

side by side,

and listen to each other

as those in love do.

Jenneth Graser

Lean into the Prayer That Holds Us

Silent on the still ways of wandering,
hope in the new breath that comes.

Pressed into the moments that lie before us,
we are bearing no heavy burdens today.

There are things going on everywhere we look,
much ado about so much.

The lines on our brow are a textured map
of deep thoughts, measured.

We have lifted up our hands like autumn leaves.
We have turned golden, red, and brown
under the pressure of elements that keep coming.

We are letting the things we know, drift outwards,
we are allowing our spirit to be felt and sown.

There is a kingdom within you have said
and the children inherit.

Earthly treasure cannot come close in comparison
to what is already in the field.

Would we be willing to sell all things for
such a fine pearl?

We would be willing to come if we saw you
on the horizon, beckoning.

But you have called to us from within, not far off.

It is time to rest into the kingdom you have placed here.
It is time to find the compassion that grows.
It is time to lean into the prayer that holds us.

It is the right time for such things
to bear us into your inner court.

We are the treasure you have been
waiting for.

Jenneth Graser

Photography - Petra

Listen to Beautiful Jesus by Melissa Helser

I Will Find You Again

I come to you between the lines,
in the places no one else can see
where seeds lie dormant under snow
waiting through cracks in the pavement.

Here is where you are to be found -
where no one is looking,
I will find you.

When relationships lag behind
expectations that cannot be met,
when the longing for a rekindling
of connection leaves us feeling bereft -
It is here I meet you.

You make for me a home
where Advent light realigns
the needs of family and friends
both near and far -
I will see you.

When I miss the people
who are no longer a part of my life,
when the children wake up
on the excitement of long ago mornings,

and when I look forward to so much
it cannot be contained -
it is here
I will find you again.

Jenneth Graser

Gift of Wonder

In the fledgling of this day
a gift of wonder is waiting.

Where a branch meets the welcoming sky,
leaves break the brightening palette with green.

A bird not yet grown
shows newly adult feathers peeking through
the down in shimmers of emerald and red.

A curtaining of vine shadows lace the walls
and family faces look like strangers wanting to be known.

Every smile is not taken for granted
where laughter is medicine
and we open this precious gift
that costs us nothing.

We come upon it as grace,
while imagination flickers with picture upon picture
of how the world could be.

We find ourselves praying into dark places
with hopes that are longing for more.

Wonder promises us that miracles
are here to stay.

Through every impossible dark,
there is one ray of light to point the way.

So we pick up the fractured pieces
as Spirit somehow makes sense of it all
in the way only Spirit can,

beyond reasoning or understanding
peace combines with wonder
as healing melts through the sun.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Silvia Stödter

Hidden

It is good to be hidden in the great garden.
It is good to be hidden in rain.

It is good to be under the fingerprints
of green foliage among trees.

It is good to be hidden in the hand, in prayer,
to be under the wing.

To be hidden by wave upon wave, and behind the waterfall.

To be hidden in the womb and the fluff of the nest,
to be held in the cloth of motherly care.

To be under the night sky of a new moon
in the middle of a field looking into star upon star,
in the grass, hidden.

Such times were given to us so that we may listen,
and speak and be heard.

So that we may find ourselves
alone in the presence of greatness.

So that we may know we
are small

and yet find the universe is expanding on our breath
and upon each thought as we crest the tides
of love in being
hidden.

Jenneth Graser

Artist - Dorothy Lathrop

Move into Prayer

You filled a space in your diary
for a date with yourself today.

You switch off your phone.
No demands on your attention.

You decide to walk down to the park -
you know of a place not many go.

A glade of trees among trees
and leaves in a state of holy ebb,
where a stream flows beneath it all.

Into the peace, you quietly tread.
Every voice silenced, one by one.

Each thought sighs into the ground
as a seed on your breath.

Your hands are ladles
for water scooped from a river
that quenches, a parched mind.

This is your cathedral -
worship, a humble song
under the cavern of green light

You move into prayer, slowly.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 15 Prompt - move

Artist - Odon Czintos

Beautiful soaking music by Julie True & Grace Williams

Free download of the first ten episodes of Catching the Light available on Noisetrade

The Beautiful Man

There is a bench
in a garden, weathered,
the wood worn,
knots coiled where moss lingers
on the fringes of time.

Here she sits side by side
with the Beautiful Man.

He has taken her hand
where no words are spoken.

The walls around the garden
do not withhold from her
a single thing.

There is growth perpetual where
conversation has folded
between the palms of their hands.

She comes here to brew in stillness,
to feel the rush immaterial fade,
to merge with what is eternal -

To feel the flavours between them
infuse.

Jenneth Graser

#write31days
Day 4 prompt - brew

Artist - Emma Lazauski

Shamah Cloth

There is a child in soft folds of cloth.
She breathes in the fragrance
Of a billion prayers on the altar.

And there is a place for her there,
In the Shamah cloth, enfolded.

She feels the hand stroke her brow,
Ease the troubling thoughts
That alight like crows in the pine
Tree on the garden verge.

A restless bicker of caws
Is hard to silence.

She feels the greeting of a kiss like whispers
On her forehead,
Until every thought flies free.

The pine soughs in the wind
Of his breath on her face.

She can smell the resin he collected
In the night watch, ever wakeful.

She can see the intentions of his
Heart are for her ever good.

Folding deeper into softness of
The Shamah cloth, invitation
Is substance.

She grows into the gift of One who is,
One who is There.

Jenneth Graser

Photo credit unknown

Pearls in the dark

I am drawn to you looking at
Me from beyond the veil.
On wafts of incense and icon

Your instruments tell tales of
Other places, distant times,
Families.

Where to be all grown up
Looks altogether different.
On woven threads of colour,

Many feet dance as fabric swirls the air.
Prayers sigh from cliff to cliff
In flight between the mountains.

You discover God in the way
Your grandmother tells stories.
Firelight flickers a ritual between

The folds and wrinkles of her face.
You experience the presence of
God in the beating of your drum.

As you light each candle, the words
Fold from the scrolls, chanted.
All of your senses seek and discover

Pearls in the dark; you share so kindly.

Jenneth Graser

Jaisalmer India - photo credit unknown