Sunday, April 22, 2018

Earth Day Revelations

Beloved, see what love has been bestowed on us that we may be called the children of God.  Yet, so we are.  … Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed.  We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like God, for we shall see God face to face.

What we shall be has not yet been revealed…when it is…we shall be like God, for we shall see God face to face… Gory, what an enticing promise… 

I read that this morning while sitting in the embrace of a natural cathedral…the centre, the heart, of the Public Gardens. For the first time this season, the air was buoyed by a kiss of springtime; dormant colors had shaken off their outer layers, determined to begin a strength regimen toward regaining full, wakeful, glory; the textures of all that was alive seemed to be flexing, stretching forth, jockeying for a place in the sun that would ease stiff creases and freshen the dusty gauze.

It is as though the Earth too has Being not yet revealed…and creation is waiting with anticipation to see the splendor, the riotous display, of line, of hue, of beauty, of what it will become.

To think God is like that with us…to think that one day I will know…and meanwhile get to behold a thousand other becomings…

Absolutely incredible. Divinely thrilling.

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

A Snapshot in Haiku

Indigo Hour

Indigo hour calls
luminous and liminal;
Day’s end, thoughts lengthen.

(Known too as ‘holy basil’)
tea; my senses sigh.

House-sounds infusing
this contemplative here, now.
Such grace is welcome.

Kimberly M. King, RSCJ

(Thank you to friend, Lisa T. for the phrase, 'indigo hour.')

Sunday, April 15, 2018

Each Braided Bit a Story


Such roots as I have
are woven into a nest borne with me 
from place to place.

Delicate and fiercely capable, both; 
It can bear the wild whip-crack of rain
until it passes and meanwhile remember 
the cool sun-filled winds that will come
to dry and fresh bless this home
that has grown with me; each braided bit 
having told its story, adding to height or girth
or the number of windows and doors.

Windows and doors:
There are more of those now, affording a freedom 
of movement within and with-out. 

I have learned too
that once set into their jambs,
they can both help keep the rain at bay
while also letting 
the light, the light, the light
And the birdsong of neighbors; and 
the whispers between moon and comet.

Kimberly M. King, RSCJ

Friday, April 13, 2018

Through the Bend

From the notebook...

13 April, 2018
7:15 AM

In the sunroom with hot coffee rightly proportioned and sourdough toast with ricotta and cinnamon—an altogether lovely breakfast.  It is especially cozy to be in this particular room on a morning like today.  It is pouring and it is blowing—though in such a way that the roof fans have not yet started their cranky ‘whupping.’  So for now, it’s the wet-slap staccato pounding on the windows and deck that draws me deeper down, into the corner of the short couch, into a wakefulness grounded in You. Thank you for this.

It is no less a feeling of a fullness of you than last night with the beauty of the light and the cool evening air…and yet, entirely different. Somewhere…or some-when…overnight, we moved through the bend of the Moebius strip.  Outer into inner.  

I love that we do in fact move…that it is at your invitation…and that we do it together.

Walking home through Victoria Park after transcribing this entry

Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Tis a Gift

Simple joys have always been important to me.  The onset of spring is no exception and today was a blue-skied beginning that worked its magic on my spirit.  

When I dropped someone off at the airport, I could have easily, so easily, kept on driving.  It was a day for a road trip, for adventure, cool sun-filled air, and deep fresh breaths.  
Alas, it was also a day for responsibility, so I returned to my work and took care of what needed doing. 

After a while indoors with emails, phone calls, and planning, it was time to run errands.  I just couldn’t imagine only looking at the day outside…I wanted to be IN IT; so off I went on the mundane errands a day can call for…adventures of a different sort.

And oh, the treasure…

I picked up a copy of a favorite childhood book as a present for a friend and had a lovely ten-minute conversation with the woman at the counter about the value of reading aloud and sharing simple moments in good company.

Upon leaving, I found myself on the sidewalk walking toward a woman I have been running into all over this part of the city in the last number of weeks.  I have no idea what her name is but we both enjoy the random encounters and greet one another with a big smile.  We haven’t ever had a conversation beyond wishing one another a good day and yet the smiles we exchange stay with me.

Coming home through Victoria park, I ran into a woman who comes to our house for Mass on Sundays. She introduced me to a neighbor and I helped them look for her neighbor’s family’s memorial brick in the walkway…and got a story about the neighbor having tamed crows in exchange for my hunting.

Between the park and the house, I was having a text exchange with a new friend and took two phone calls from people who wanted to sign up for a program at the Centre.  A great combination of new life.

Rather than go up the drive and in the back, I walked further on so I could make the turn and go in the front.  Some urge had me tuck inside the fence line to look at the blueberry bushes and while bending over them, looking for signs of new growth, I turned and saw one lone crocus blooming in its blue-purple fullness beneath the rhododendron—a delicate sign of light, promise, and the return of color.

It was a lovely day today.  

Thank you, God, for such simplicity as this.