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Daily I walk around my house to pick up trash,
stewardship on a corner lot I almost own.
stewardship on a corner lot I almost own.
Walking the plot satisfies me—it freshens the air I
breathe.
Neatness serves Main Street. And routine counters chaos.
What more than this small task do God and earth want of me?
They accompany me, as they do you right where you are.
They accompany me, as they do you right where you are.
And where are you? Are you, too, feeling you should do more?
A still small voice tells me to turn the lawns into gardens.
A still small voice tells me to turn the lawns into gardens.
I hesitate. Maple trees block the sun from the
southeast
and white pine add to the house shadow in back. Roses grow.
and white pine add to the house shadow in back. Roses grow.
I know. I know—seeing
in the news, the disease Doctors
Without Borders and the World Health Organization face.
Without Borders and the World Health Organization face.
Among pandemics, wars, and climate and economic
disasters, service people scramble to scratch surfaces
disasters, service people scramble to scratch surfaces
of need, so much need. Are you with them? To
give or receive?
In my thorny red roses, I stand in silent prayer for you.
In my thorny red roses, I stand in silent prayer for you.
Right now, this is the fullness I have to give—red roses,
attentiveness and prayer, everything earth gives me, in kind, in words.
attentiveness and prayer, everything earth gives me, in kind, in words.
Let my portion add to the gathering communities
that balance, and will soon outstrip all terror.
that balance, and will soon outstrip all terror.
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
If you quote, credit this page.
© 2020 Susan L. Chast
This is a lovely prayer, my friend. I LOVE your sweet house and yard - just so lovely, midst those big trees. I love "I stand in silent prayer for you." And "this is the fullness I have to give - everything earth gives me, in kind, in words." Wonderful.
ReplyDeleteI, having spent a good deal of today pulling weeds amid plentiful perennials, send gratitude prayers for your poem, Susan.
ReplyDeleteso much good in this. A beautiful prayer, thank you.
ReplyDeleteSorry for a dense challenge, I couldn't quite wrap my ahead around it. What you say so well here approaches the theme along a surer route -- that what we each can do to participate in a healthy change is small -- so small -- yet it is the celebration of those roses, those fragrant particulars, which the angels desire most (as I read Rilke, at least.) The big engines require a vast flow of sweet iota. Keep up the good work. - Brendan
ReplyDeleteThe doing and the sending out of thoughts has much power.
ReplyDeleteThis is the kind of prayer we need, Susan, a daily one to remind us of what we have, a routine to counter chaos.
ReplyDeleteOur tasks definitely have scaled down! I have never spent so much time in my own limited environment staying safe. I also do pray for those service people who are greatly appreciated while being in danger.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful and eloquent poem, Susan, full of the small details that matter,
ReplyDeleteJIM
I too wonder what more can I do besides prayer, and tiny little givings that amount to so little. Hopefully our positive energies do merge with Mother Nature and the prayers of others.
ReplyDeleteI love this poem. It says what I haven't been able to express.