Blessed healing community, humbly accept this offering:
"Lady Query" [11-19-2001]
(On the occasion of the 138th anniversary of
President Abraham Lincoln's delivery of the Gettysburg Address}
Set the torch down, Lady.
Your touch we need now.
Warm us,
Hold us,
Quell our fears with Mother-love understanding.
Lead us to right actions.
Remind us:
each act ripples forth to manifest future worlds
for our children's children's children.
~
Please, not another 50,000-plus.
No more killing brother, sister, child, human being - anywhere, in any land.
~
Grant us clear-seeing by Your Light.
Help us navigate swirling sound-byte-seas,
dancing-fear-blurred images,
saber-rattles,
hate-words,
freedom-doublespeech,
hidden courts with no-juries-in-the-makings.
~
Can your Hungry-Mother Light dispel dark energies that blindly drive us, separating one earthpeople into comfortable good/evil prisons?
Bring us back from the shores of self-destruction,
To the hearth of your kindled Ideal.
Grant us the moral vigor to own the darkness we share -
each human creature, from every tongue, culture, tribe.
Grant us wisdom to free reconciling actions from the bed of careful deliberation.
Let us measure terrible-self knowing as we respond.
Let us ask,
"How have we contributed to world suffering;
Who are we each now called to be?"
Awaken in us, Blessed Lady,
a vision where each earthfamily member
delights,
brings peace from chaos,
respect from hatred,
hope from despair,
community from isolation.
Shine Your welcoming torch,
'Cross rainbow planes o'er every land,
'Cross patient mountains-crumbling, aching,
Into the quivery-rumble of one earth-mother.
Do you hear Her groan with every blood-drop?
~
Lady, Great Lady,
Rock us,
Cradle us,
Comfort your earthfamily,
Still the roaring cacophony of hate
Heal our fevered, pitched ramblings
with Your One-Mother's suckling gift.
Do you hear rocks weeping?
Trees stooping in horror?
Clouds looking for clothes hampers to hide in?
Rainbows locking themselves in bus station bathrooms?
Singing birds made mute?
Reclaim your torth, Lady.
Shine. Please, shine forth.
'Cross the language of one human inheritance,
'Cross the armor of one collective murmur,
One-child screaming, "Why?"
Shine, inspire, direct one query
toward Holy Purpose:
an out-of-all-imagined-boxes,
tumble-down-the-mountain,
new-world-rising intent.
Lady,
Knit one whirling,
sweeping kaleidoscope-comforter,
Wrap it round the corridors of rage in your protective net.
We, your trembling children,
Tuck faces trembling in your skirt-hems,
Sensing new-Holocaust-a-brewing.
Protect especially the ones who strike
from raging wounds as-yet-unknown.
Bind the death-wings of unchecked insanity.
Know, each breath extinguished, is our own.
Each heart stilled, too, is us.
Each earthen-body-buried is ours.
Now is the time.
Whisper,
Exiled Mother,
to all earthchildren,
"Enough."
/~gassho~\
Use, share with anyone with/or/without attribution.
May Peace Shine Her Face on All.
Blessings.
Dale Anthony Joseph Beaulieu
