Poem by Ellen Bass

Pray for Peace

Pray to whomever you kneel down to:
Jesus nailed to his wooden or plastic cross,
his suffering face bent to kiss you,
Buddha still under the bo tree in scorching heat,
Adonai, Allah. Raise your arms to Mary
that she may lay her palm on our brows,
to Shekhina, Queen of Heaven and Earth,
to Inanna in her stripped descent.

Then pray to the bus driver who takes you to work.
On the bus, pray for everyone riding that bus,
for everyone riding buses all over the world.
Drop some silver and pray.

Waiting in line for the movies, for the ATM,
for your latte and croissant, offer your plea.
Make your eating and drinking a supplication.
Make your slicing of carrots a holy act,
each translucent layer of the onion, a deeper prayer.

To Hawk or Wolf, or the Great Whale, pray.
Bow down to terriers and shepherds and Siamese cats.
Fields of artichokes and elegant strawberries.

Make the brushing of your hair
a prayer, every strand its own voice,
singing in the choir on your head.
As you wash your face, the water slipping
through your fingers, a prayer: Water,
softest thing on earth, gentleness
that wears away rock.

Making love, of course, is already prayer.
Skin, and open mouths worshipping that skin,
the fragile cases we are poured into.

If you're hungry, pray. If you're tired.
Pray to Gandhi and Dorothy Day.
Shakespeare. Sappho. Sojourner Truth.

When you walk to your car, to the mailbox,
to the video store, let each step
be a prayer that we all keep our legs,
that we do not blow off anyone else's legs.
Or crush their skulls.
And if you are riding on a bicycle
or a skateboard, in a wheelchair, each revolution
of the wheels a prayer as the earth revolves:
less harm, less harm, less harm.

And as you work, typing with a new manicure,
a tiny palm tree painted on one pearlescent nail
or delivering soda or drawing good blood
into rubber-capped vials, writing on a blackboard
with yellow chalk, twirling pizzas--

With each breath in, take in the faith of those
who have believed when belief seemed foolish,
who persevered. With each breath out, cherish.

Pull weeds for peace, turn over in your sleep for peace,
feed the birds, each shiny seed
that spills onto the earth, another second of peace.
Wash your dishes, call your mother, drink wine.

Shovel leaves or snow or trash from your sidewalk.
Make a path. Fold a photo of a dead child
around your VISA card. Scoop your holy water
from the gutter. Gnaw your crust.
Mumble along like a crazy person, stumbling
your prayer through the streets.

Spring Equinox

March 20th is the Spring Equinox, and we are at the height of the season, at Mid-Spring. The first half of Spring, from the beginning of February until today, has been a time of clearing out the dry leaves and twigs from last year and preparing the ground for this year’s sprouts. And now comes the surge of the robust and relentless energy of growth.

The growth energy of Spring breaks over me in waves. Each day a new set of daffodils unfold their brilliant yellow leaves, a bright reminder that the time is nigh. I find myself in these last few days rushing about gathering up bits of detritus, pieces I do not want to bring into this year’s growth. But that moment is quickly eclipsing, replaced with the keen surge of growth.

Today at the equinox we experience the brief moment of balance on the earth, when day and night are virtually equal. At this brief moment of balance, consider your direction, in a personal and global sense, both the individual you and the you that is one of the beautiful threads in the tapestry of our cosmos. Breathe in the revitalizing growth energy of Spring, nourishing your individual self. Then reach out and join in this moment of global balance, and breathe out your love and compassion.

And get ready to be swept into the heady and glorious flood of new life.

Brightest Blessings at the Equinox -- Anne



A bit about the Spring Equinox: The Spring Equinox is the height of Spring. Equinox means “balance”, and this is the point when the dark and light of the day are most at balance. On a global scale, the equinoxes are at the points of the year when the entire world is in balance, with both Southern and Northern hemispheres receive almost the same amount of light. The equinox has another important feature as well: it is the only point during the year that the Sun rises in exact east and sets in exact west. For while the Sun “stands still” at the solstices, the Sun moves very rapidly across the horizon at the equinoxes leaving only one day to calibrate to the directions (see http://www.archaeoastronomy.com/seasons.html for an animated demonstration of the Sun moving across the horizon). The Mid-Spring festival is also called Ostara (Germanic in origin). Astrologically, the Spring Equinox may be calculated as the date the Sun is at 0° Aries, which currently Falls around March 19-20. This is the beginning of the astrological year in the Tropical system.

My brain

I am not my brain. Sometimes I get confused or even tricked by my brain into thinking that I am my brain and only my brain, but I know now that that's not right. I am that which observes my brain. Last night I dreamed that I was floating in a dark cavern; it seemed like I was underwater in a strange way. Above and to the left a bit I saw my personality. It was like a ball made up of all kinds of things and I woud put it on like a set of clothes. I began to slowly take it apart and see what was there. As I worked on it I eventually realized there was nothing there. It was empty, unreal. I suspect yours is the same way.