a lenten meditation
i don't think, anymore, that the Holy Spirit with me
is like a stonecarver with his chisel, knocking off big chunks
of obstinate rock. (though i am still obstinate.)
rather, i feel a different truth:
instead of harsh chisel, a steadily flowing stream
gradually, moment by moment, rounding off my rough edges
and carving perfect channels through me.
soon, in 80 years, i will only be
a smooth, hollow, thin-walled vessel
humble in my hollowness
transparent
empty
delighting hour by hour in the sensation of continual fullness
which the throat of a fountain must know.
i will, simply, live to enjoy
the delicate fragrance of divine Liquid
Who daily makes His home in me.
now, my sole task
is to kneel
often, and quietly
in my spirit
under this Living Water
until i learn never to move but always to savor
His sweet, steady Refreshment
over, around and through me.
oh, Spirit, teach me
to sit motionless under Your sweetness,
to sense the gentle pressure of Your presence
changing me, hollowing me,
hallowing me from the inside out.
is like a stonecarver with his chisel, knocking off big chunks
of obstinate rock. (though i am still obstinate.)
rather, i feel a different truth:
instead of harsh chisel, a steadily flowing stream
gradually, moment by moment, rounding off my rough edges
and carving perfect channels through me.
soon, in 80 years, i will only be
a smooth, hollow, thin-walled vessel
humble in my hollowness
transparent
empty
delighting hour by hour in the sensation of continual fullness
which the throat of a fountain must know.
i will, simply, live to enjoy
the delicate fragrance of divine Liquid
Who daily makes His home in me.
now, my sole task
is to kneel
often, and quietly
in my spirit
under this Living Water
until i learn never to move but always to savor
His sweet, steady Refreshment
over, around and through me.
oh, Spirit, teach me
to sit motionless under Your sweetness,
to sense the gentle pressure of Your presence
changing me, hollowing me,
hallowing me from the inside out.