Monday, February 22, 2021

Katie Snipes Lancaster

A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back. Luke 6:38

Some days I think I need nothing
more in life than a spoon.
With a spoon I can eat oatmeal,
or take the medicine doctors prescribe.
I can swat a fly sleeping on the sill
or pound the table to get attention.
I can point accusingly at God
or stab the empty air repeatedly.
Looking into the spoon’s mirror,
I can study my small face in its shiny bowl,
or cover one eye to make half the world
disappear. With a spoon
I can dig a tunnel to freedom,
spoonful by spoonful of dirt,
or waste life catching moonlight
and flinging it into the blackest night.
—Richard Jones, “The Spoon”

O Divine Night,
Unbounded by Moonlight:
Make holy this.
The near-morning.
The darkness.
Within the hardship.
Hallow what feels hollow.
Bless what feels impossible.
Simplify what feels impenetrable.
Consecrate what feels unending.
Make holy.
Let holy be.