A Blessing for the Weary

I bless you with a spirit born upon spring

opening into the delight of a thousand buds

intent on sap and light.

I bless you with eyes that open on waking,

lapsing into dreams that take you

rippling back and forth from Heaven to earth.

I bless you with the memory of your

most beautiful days with no regret to accompany,

the refrains of your most favourite songs.

I bless you with a yes for all your no's

and a wide open expanse breaking out

inside of your soul.

I bless you with a hurling of old stale deeds

into the sea of no beginning, no end

and the forgetting of what is wrong.

I bless you with the small things 

revealing to you great mysteries,

a spiralling mathematical shell.

I bless you to once again feel your inspiration

a tide determined, with the determination

of dawn and the colours of earth turning into the sun.

I bless you with sleep uninterrupted,

with doubts appeased and hope beating with the blood

through every one of your arteries and veins.

I bless you to be able to see gratitude

and feel it on every breath, peel off every mask,

every label and step out in your brand-new skin, astonished.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Linus Nylund 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

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

A Very New Time

My Dear

You are on the verge of a very new time
even though the mist is still thick on the fields.

As you notice the dew on leaves
and the fragrance of trodden earth,
I am there in the places you feel the most lack,
working.

My purposes are to build you up in the weakness
you face, especially in the places that feel impossible.
I am there, present.

In your heart's cry and needs, with your family and friends,
every relationship that bears down on your shoulders -
I am there, working.

You are on the verge of a very new time
and I have been restoring the history of your life.

In every small act of forgiveness, I am there.
You are not as far off as you feel,
in fact, the radiance of my face beholds you.

My love is as real as it was when you first knew me.

I am there,
I AM.

Jenneth Graser

Photography - Benjamin Balazs  

Listen to Julie True- I Need You Lord, Meet Me Here

Tiny Seeds

He moistened the hem of her robe,
led her by both hands.

The green of the forest was under her feet,
now there is only water.

The fire ate up most of the mountains,
with a sound of seeds popping.

She used excuses by the dozen, offered
to herself and to others.

By late October, tendrils appeared
and her fears were dealt with in dreams.

Ecclesiastes called for seasons of planting,
with a time to weep and a time to laugh.

The grass had a chance once again, as
blackened earth and charred roots gave way.

The soles of her feet were too used to stones.
She came alone from the desert to the trees calling.

Her tiny seeds have sprouted
in the hands of her Lover.

Jenneth Graser

"Who can tip over the water jars of the heavens
when the dust becomes hard
and the clods of earth stick together?"

Job 38:37-38

Artist - Arun Prem

Nothing Short of a Miracle

New tools may be placed in old hands
where learning occurs.

Eyes that open from the inward
may affect the way all outward
things are seen.

A pregnant idea is not yet birthed.

Wait for true ripening;
then clarity may follow.

We are too much in a hurry with ourselves,
lest we lose our way.

Or slow into the breath.

Lifting a quilt under a sky of cold nights,
mists of exhalation dissipate
on each dream
just out of reach.

Come back to yourself.

When comfortable in your skin
everything ordinary and commonplace
becomes something to marvel at.

There is a large downy feather in the bathroom -
you have no idea where it came from.

And your neighbour is nothing short of
a miracle.

Jenneth Graser

Artist - PortLove