For, a Thanksgiving meditation

 

For 

the birds that nest in the trees and in the reeds,

the flowering plants and fish that sustain them,

the great, diverse system of living beings;

the depth of roots in the seeded earth,

providing shade and shelter, food and fuel;

light, shadow and darkness,

an unending cycle of renewal from everything,
from waking to rest;

land, with all its contours and environments,

that supports each footfall, each seed, every root and liquid source;

water, from which all life emerges and returns as a blessing;

people, of every uniqueness, who discover in themselves roles to fill,

who grow & nurture, think & create, who care & give & build,

contributing to the rich song, music and dance of existence;

deeply thought ideas,
drafted over such seas of experience as joy, love, pain or hardship,

intended to pave a better way, or at least make the attempt;

circles we move in,

of family, friends and colleagues, 

shaping and sharing community through arts and cultures,

people who challenge and improve by being healthy exemplars;

those no longer with us, who lived, loved, served, nurtured 

even especially people we don’t know,

the empty chairs that trigger unforced tears & a heartache of memories;

all who stand for something, stand up for someone,

all for one, few, or many — and one for all;

being for is a sort of goodness; 

it might be the only goodness there is

in this world where some people profit 

by inviting anger, strife and antagonism to the table,

where the constant tug is either passively or aggressively against;

I pray for all in need, for all who love, for all who sorrow,

and for all who stake their lives on being
for something, anything, someone, goodness;

for all that is for

—for all that and more, 

I give thanks.

© Elisabeth T. Eliassen & songsofasouljourney.blogspot.com 

Pentecost 2021

 

From Passover and Crucifixion
to Passover and Crucifixion,
the people had been closed off,
locked away from one another
by decree by fear, and by death
wrought by a raging pestilence.

But today, such decrees were lifted,
and all gathered together;
no matter their language or culture;
they gathered in one space,
to be of one mind,
in gratitude.

Into that singular mental space,
from all and in all directions,
a purifying wind blew,
and a refiner’s fire
filled the collective soul.

All at once, the people began to speak,
some in languages they’d never studied;
everyone heard and was heard, 

everyone understood and was understood,
everyone one in being with one.

Everyone one of heart, exult
in all of one for one
and dwell now in hope,
no longer abandoned to Gehenna;
we who have seen death
have also seen life,
and we have chosen life.

What now shall we do?
The people asked, as one voice.

And the answer came to all:
Be penitent for all past double-standards,
serve the divine by serving your neighbor;
believe that all are equal to love divine,
and live to that truth.

If you do this, you will have welcomed
Olam Haba, and shall be embraced therein.

In gladness and singleness of heart,
All breathed as one and, as one, sighed:
Amen. 

© 2021 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen and songsofasouljourney.blogspot.com

Waking beneath swirling stars

Waking beneath swirling stars
into this kaleidoscopic array,
where colors, light and shadows play
through loud or unexpectedly quiet hours,
grateful for: fruit of the vine,
waiting to be crafted into wine;
all the prayerful, fragrant flowers
snug ‘neath warm and sunny ray;
the themes with variations
of being and doing, each day
a new start at the foundations;
the play of You at my horizon,
which is really the Play of Us,
hum-sung to grow and wisen
all toward easiness within, without fuss;
the freedom to know and accept love;
the curiosity to seek and explore,
both below the surface and above,
what can be known of music and rhythms,
in their proper expansions and contractions,
mind and heart exercising all possible lyricisms
beyond the care of doubting reactions;
borrowed place and renewing rest;
for the weight of others’ cares;
for communal work and quest;
for those willing hands, hearts, arms and chairs
offered in my own hours of need;
and more,
            and more,
                        and, oh, so much more;
take this as a pledge to sow and seed and cede
beauties where most appropriate, never forsaking.

© 2017 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

This Moment For Thanks

This moment,
just this moment—
to take this moment away
from the ballyhoo and sway,
the wind and weather fray
that seems to increasingly mark each day—

To recognize the beauty of this life,
so replete with challenges and strife,
yet manages still to overflow with vibrant
music, colors, movement and words,
and the magnificence of simple gestures,
such as light rising out of dark shadows,
called forth by throngs of singsong birds—

To remember all the many faces,
the far-flung and beautiful places
where senses were bathed in graces
formed by so many generations past,
built, with lavished, crafted care, to last,
and also remind—

To feel fully in my body and free,
even to revel in the mundane task
that could so often vex, one day in three—

To meet around the bountiful table,
with expectations and pleasurable
gusto, to bare and share as we are able,
proves a central truth: We need one another—

To be reminded all that is good
requires due diligence without fraction;
anything less threatens contraction,
and this is a humbling thought
to release from its abstraction:
Gratitude is a call to action—

This moment,
just this moment,
I’ll take this moment away,
to take in a deep breath and say,
marking the beauty of this day;
whether you, my loved ones,
being either near or far,
wherever you are,
thank you, oh, thank you, most indeed,
for bringing your life-giving beauty
to this world, to my life,
to this moment.

© 2016 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Gratitude

thanks,
such a small word
to exchange for
the magnificence
of glittering pools of light that,
spilling through
all the mornings of my life,
stir me first to wakefulness,
and then to rapture,
at the illumined beauty
of the world;
of family, friends &
familiar places;
of tactile relationships &
flavors on the tongue;
of music to the ears &
flower scented air;
of being empty &
then being filled, full and
fully satisfied;
of being busy,
in work and in play,
then to stop for rest &
for the sleep that renews—
all of this in daily doses,
for a lifetime of wonder
—thanks,
this word so small, so humble,
is really all that can sound
from these lips,
awed by life’s beauty,
the so far & the more

I know is yet
to be revealed.

© 2010 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen