Bless these workers:
The ones who feed us,
The ones who keep us safe,
The ones who heal us,
The ones who sustain us,
The ones who entertain us,
The one who create for us
The ones who do the dirty work for us
The ones who are us!
And the ones who put themselves in danger,
whether out of choice or out of necessity.
Bless you:
May you be paid fairly for your labor,
May you find pleasure in your work,
May you be appreciated for your sacrifices,
May you have room to recover yourselves,
May you not be sickened or injured in your jobs,
May you organize yourselves successfully in unions,
May you have time for spiritual exploration
And may you all get enough of what you need,
whatever that looks like for each one of you.
Amen.
All this power
That we have worshipped and obeyed
And prayed to
For thousands of years,
The power to redeem and forgive,
Create and sustain,
Comfort and heal,
Remember and bless,
All this power is ours to assign
With fear or with familiarity
And ours to wield,
With greed or with generosity.
Or perhaps it belongs to no one
Like the dew on the fields,
Like the winds that blow
And the rains that fall.
Amen.
Every time I step out of mundane time
To be present to what I’m actually doing
Instead of dwelling on what I’ve done before
Or what I might do next
Or what has or will be done to me or around me,
No matter how content, miserable or stimulated I am,
Every time I am fully inside the depth of a feeling
That is truly of now,
Aware in compassion, truth and presence, then
I am raised from the dead.
This is my only super power,
These occasional moments of Holy Wholeness
Scattered amongst the usual blah
Until I die
And there will be no raising me then,
I’m pretty sure.
