all was as it has ever been

All was as it had ever been -
The worn familiar book
The oak behind the hawthorn seen,
The misty woodland look:
The starling perched upon the tree
With his long tress of straw -
When suddenly heaven blazed on me
And suddenly I saw:
Saw all as it would ever be,
In bliss too great to tell;
For ever safe, for ever free,
All bright with miracle

Ruth Pitter

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who disciples us?

i choose to hope beyond the ups and downs of the market, beyond the security of investments and the blankets of insurance. i choose to live in the light of hope, illogical and persistent, beyond seperation and death itself.

i refuse to be crushed by bottom lines and live as if nothing, neither height nor depth, angel nor demon, past nor present nor future can seperate us. i choose to bind myself this day and every day to eternal selflessness of of the trinity.

i choose to live with open hands, refuse to grasp, refuse to worry. i hope to live hospitably, doors unlocked, kitchen wide open.

i refuse to be seduced by false needs, inflamed desires, easy virtuality over messy reality. i refuse entertainment over justice.

i choose to live with eyes wide open, to welcome truth in all its horror over digital remastering. i hope for the courage of romero, of biko, of barth to speak truth to power.

i refuse to see people as resources, manipuable and maleable to my needs.

i choose to see people as icons of the creator and giver of all life, and perhaps one day even as sacraments of he who never learnt to withhold love.

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