Day 2 of Poetry As Prayer, 2015

The rain didn't get us down. After playing with metaphors this morning, Richard gave us this photograph of a big leaf maple near his home in Canada. The tree has been partially chewed through by beavers, yet still it stands. We were invited to sink into the photograph and write our own poem. 16 people took 16 different directions. That's what I so appreciate about this time together. Everyone brings their own story and their own gifts.

My Prayer for Healing

Chewed, scarred, wounded,

Still standing,

half in shadow and half in light.

Lord have mercy.

Leaning

still rooted

grounded in rich soil - your love.

Christ have mercy.

Scant sunlight filters above and all around.

Lift me up.

Fill my limbs with life and energy.

Lord have mercy.

Sheila Conner

Poetry as Prayer Retreat

October 24, 2015

2nd Challenge

After lunch, Richard challenged us again...this time, pick out a Bible passage, enter it, and write from inside the story, lectio divina style. I took a short nap, sat down, and wrote again.

On The Road To Nain

Luke 7:12-15

As he approached the town gate, a dead person was being carried out -- the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the town was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry."

Then he went up and touched the coffin, and those carrying it stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother.

You saw her Lord.

Do you see me?

Do you see other mothers like me?

Do you see our children and their lost lives?

Look at me Lord. Look at us and see us.

Let your heart go out to us, Lord.

Do you see their coffins, Lord?

You touched his coffin that day.

What about our children’s coffins, Lord?

Coffins of physical pain and suffering,

addiction, loneliness, silence.

Coffins of hopelessness and fear,

resentment, and despair.

Touch those coffins, Lord.

Speak to our children and tell them, “Get up!”

Tell them, “Wake up!”

We want to hear our children talk, Lord,

to talk to you, to talk to us, to talk to each other,

to gain their voices, to speak their truth,

to share their stories.

Healing and relationships begin again

when we are seen and heard.

See them. Hear them.

See us. Hear us.

Give me back my sons, Lord.

See my tears, and hear my prayers.

Sheila Conner

Poetry as Prayer, 2015

3rd Writing Challenge

It always amazes me the depth of the poetry that comes on this weekend. Richard has a way of inviting us deep inside ourselves, and the results is some really good poetry from a beautiful group of people. Seven years of writing together has resulted in some pretty sweet friendships, some pretty intimate knowing.

Today (Sunday), will be our last writing adventure for another year. We meet for Eucharist at 11, then write and share until later this evening. And I'm praying the rain and wind lets up. This has been the only year we've had rain like this, so I think we've been very blessed. Fortunately, the rain has messed with the poetry.