I was made to be wide-eyed all the days of my life.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012


There is a beauty in the quiet lenten moments.
 The white arcetecture of winter beings to run clear- a moveable, pliable prizim of color- trickling, dripping off the edge of the roof, and I am reminded of a earlier age.   
Lent is here, it's February and "Aslan is on the move."

An ashen smudge above my brow,  reminding me of my heritage with the ground. I came from that ground, now covered with snow. "Remember, O man, dust thou art..." 
I'll return just as soon.  

Lent, a liturgy to keep time with.
A space created for new things to grow. 

A Song of Ascents. Of David.

Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
    my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
    too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
    like a weaned child with its mother;
    like a weaned child is my soul within me.
O Israel, hope in the Lord
    from this time forth and forevermore.
                                                                                                      Psalm 131

Hope in God, well wintered soul. 

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