This perfectly lovely Sunday sermon . . . er. . . poem is by Mary Oliver, from her 2006 book “Thirst.”
Making the House Ready for the Lord
Dear Lord, I have swept and I have washed but
Dear Lord, I have swept and I have washed but
still nothing is as shining as it should be
for you. Under the sink, for example, is an
uproar of mice – it is the season of their
many children. What shall I do? And under the eaves
and through the walls the squirrels
have gnawed their ragged entrances – but it is the season
when they need shelter, so what shall I do? And
the raccoon limps into the kitchen and opens the cupboard
while the dog snores, the cat hugs the pillow;
what shall I do? Beautiful is the new snow falling
in the yard and the fox who is staring boldly
up the path, to the door. And still I believe you will
come, Lord: you will, when I speak to the fox,
the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea-goose, I know
the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea-goose, I know
that really I am speaking to you whenever I say,
as I do all morning and afternoon: Come in, Come in.
as I do all morning and afternoon: Come in, Come in.
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2 comments:
Twice beautiful.
Click on the picture to see sweet springs in all its glory.
I cannot explain the presence that has sometimes settled on me when standing at that exact spot.
The supplicant host devoutly approaches presence through works; charity, tolerance, sharing, and labor.
The Holy omnipresent guest is already there for He/She is the dust and the shining surfaces beneath.
I used to take my black lab swimming at the Sweet Springs a long time ago. He loved taking a flying jumps into the pond chasing sticks. This was back when the nearby tunnel grove of Cypress trees were still standing. What do you suppose the penalty for that is now? Public flogging, tar and feathering? It was just as majestic back then as it is now.
Interestingly, the Bay quite often stunk much worse in those days than it does nowadays.
Sincerely, M
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