The eclipse happened, but Ramesha and I pretty much missed it because we were on the road all day, from 9:15 to 6:00.
We had a variety of errands and medical appointments that took us from Grass Valley to Auburn then all around Grass Valley once again. I’m grateful for the fact that we actually accomplished a whole lot, thanks to grace and serendipity.
But we just didn’t have the bandwidth to pay close attention to the eclipse as well. Listening to the Gyatri mantra while we drove around was the best we could do.
As happens every year, it takes some time after the Oratorio to get caught up on things. So, though some friends sent me a beautiful e-card for Easter, I didn’t actually see it until almost a week later.
That ended up being kind of a blessing, because now that I wasn’t in the midst of so much busyness, I was able to really take in the inspiration. Also, the music used in the e-card is a hymn that I grew up with, which was used in such a sensitive and uplifted manner that it deeply touched me and opened up my heart.
I wanted to embed the e-card in order to share with you as a video, but it wasn’t possible on my blog platform. However, you can click here to view the card instead.
As it was an instrumental version of the hymn, I wanted to be reminded of how the lyrics went, so I did a quick Google search.
Well, I was delighted to discover that the hymn “All creatures of our God and King”, is an adaption of St. Francis of Assisi’s poem “Canticle of the Sun” — also known as “Canticle of the Creatures”. The words of the poem were translated to English by William Draper, who then paraphrased the poem and set it to music in the early 1900’s.
No wonder I’ve always loved it so much!
Here’s a beautiful choir rendition of the hymn, although they sing only four of the seven verses. Check out the lyrics below to see the verses about flowing water, mother earth, and gentle death. So powerful.
LYRICS:
All creatures of our God and king Lift up your voice and with us sing, Alleluia! Alleluia! Thou burning sun with golden beam, Thou silver moon with softer gleam!
Refrain O praise Him! O praise Him! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thou rushing wind that art so strong Ye clouds that sail in Heaven along, O praise Him! Alleluia! Thou rising morn, in praise rejoice, Ye lights of evening, find a voice! [Refrain]
Thou flowing water, pure and clear, Make music for thy Lord to hear, O praise Him! Alleluia! Thou fire so masterful and bright, That givest man both warmth and light. [Refrain]
Dear mother earth, who day by day Unfoldest blessings on our way, O praise Him! Alleluia! The flowers and fruits that in thee grow, Let them His glory also show. [Refrain]
And all ye men of tender heart, Forgiving others, take your part, O sing ye! Alleluia! Ye who long pain and sorrow bear, Praise God and on Him cast your care! [Refrain]
And thou most kind and gentle death, Waiting to hush our latest breath, O praise Him! Alleluia! Thou leadest home the child of God, And Christ our Lord the way hath trod. [Refrain]
Let all things their creator bless, And worship Him in humbleness, O praise Him! Alleluia! Praise, praise the Father, praise the Son, And praise the Spirit, Three in One! [Refrain]
Today I had a noon time medical appointment in Grass Valley, followed by a mid-afternoon appointment in Auburn. This was perfect, as it allowed me to set up a lunch date with my Dad and two of my siblings.
Unfortunately, my body took exception to something I ate yesterday, throwing my system off and making last night and this morning more than a little uncomfortable.
My energy was pretty zapped but I still got it together to drive to my appointments. So far, so good…except that it decided to rain and then snow throughout the whole drive. Thank goodness it didn’t accumulate much, so the roads remained clear!
Needless to say, I was pretty much wiped out by the time I got home.
Encountering the same old pattern of making progress on establishing positive new routines/behaviors only to sabotage that progress with a get-to-bed-super-late night.
I’ve shared poems by John Roedel before; I love his stuff. This one is the result of his experience this morning. I found it powerfully perfect for Easter.
(It’s okay if you’re not up for reading a long poem. I’m happy to give away the ending: Hope endures.) 🌻
The poet sat at his computer for two hours on Easter morning without being able to produce a single word.
His hands resting on the keyboard like starfish drying out on a beach. His eyes fixated on the blinking cursor that mocked him with every flutter.
He had so much he wanted to say to you – but couldn’t find a way to start.
The poet knew you likely also had such a weight on your shoulders and he just wanted to find a way to take some of it off before you were crushed by the heaviness of everything.
The poet closed his eyes and he could feel it all.
All of the heavy emotions of the world were seeping under the door. The despair started wrapping him as if it were a hungry python.
The snake slid under the poet’s tear duct and made his way down to the his heart.
All of the fear. All of the sadness. All of the anger. All of the war. All of the greed. All of the inhumanity.
It all coiled around the poet until he couldn’t focus on anything but the endless anguish of the world.
“Write something,” the poet hissed at himself through his pursed lips.
He figured if he could start with a single word to get the ball rolling – anything.
Just write something. Now. Write. Go!
Nothing happened. No words came.
The hands of the poet remained still.
So so so still.
The emotions of the planet were swallowing him up and soon he felt he might be gone altogether.
When his family would come looking for him they would just find his shoes and an untyped document. Every other little bit of him would be devoured by the darkness.
The poet looked out the window.
The world was raging. Everyone was holding signs. Everyone was shouting at each other. Everyone was building fences between one another.
The python of despair continued to tighten around his heart.
“This is how it ends,” the snake said as it began to squeeze his heart like a breakfast grapefruit.
The poet could feel the tightness in his chest. He could feel the despair pinch itself around him. He took a gasping breath and watched for the darkness he assumed that was about ready to rise up out of the floorboards and gobble him up up up.
The poet and the python waited for his end to come – but that is when the miracle happened.
The harder the snake coiled around his heart the more light poured out of the poet’s eyes.
At first, the light was subtle – like little particles of glowing dust caught under the lights above.
The snake’s expression changed to as if to say “Uh oh.”
The emotions of the world hissed louder and started to squeeze as tight as it could around the poet.
As that happened, the light from his eyes sharpened into beams, then lightning, melting the snake.
The heat of the light pouring out of the eyes of the poet melted the snake down like an old Lenten candle.
“What’s happening?” the python asked.
“I’m not sure. But I think the more despair you tried to smother me with the more hope seemed to squeeze out of me,” the poet said.
“Oh…damn,” the python groaned as it became a purple puddle of waxy sadness and grief.
The poet looked back out through the window. The world was still raging. People were still screaming at each other. However, this time, none of that scared him nearly as much.
This time the poet knew exactly what to write to you on this Easter morning.
