While rain is manna for a tree
And blossoms church bells for a bee
We wander in a land of doubt
And lose our way on the open sea.
As the world swirls around us
And we sprint for the bus
The sacred stations of life
Are closed by distrust.
But if we let our sails fly free
And ride the wind in harmony
We’ll know that life is not a problem
Just wind and sails, and waves and sea.
. . .
May my family and friends, neighbors and strangers, those who agree with me and those who do not, including the discordant voices of my own divided self, today find comfort and ease. May all who are exhausted, living as if chained to a treadmill that is spinning in circles, relax this very day in the cloudbanks of Great Time, rejoicing that we are alive and still free to practice kindness.
May whoever is alone in small spaces or stalled on a freeway, who feels imprisoned in their own narrow-mindedness, today find comfort and ease. Let us pause in the flow of our day and turn toward the heavens, rack our dripping paddles and–gliding forward–look up into an open sky woven with clouds and darting birds, and feel the breeze moving across the face of Great Space. Let us today return home to our living planet and breathe in openness as spacious as the unknown cosmos.
May all of us who fall into anger, who feel afraid of what is to happen to us and to our world, whose ways of knowing stray into helplessness and frustration, which could so easily be annealed by understanding who and what we are, today find comfort and ease. May we relax into the arms of a Great Knowing, that is ready to catch us if only we can trust ourselves to fall.