Awaiting His Arrival: From Weeping to Salvaged

snowremnant

And his father and his mother marveled at what was said about him. 34 And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed 35 (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.
Luke 2: 33-35

 

Lacrymosa
Dolorosa
Voca Me
Libera
Salva Me

You are the voice that calls in the silence
You are the light that shines in the dark
You hold me if I were falling
Hear me if I am calling
Salva Me

You are the words of the song
Lacrymosa
You are the light
Dolorosa
You are the music that plays
Voca Me, Libera
You are the voice
Salva me
You are the day

Lacrymosa
Dolorosa
Voca Me
Libera
Salva Me

You are the words of the song in the sunrise
You are the music that plays at the dawn
You hold me in any sorrow
See me through every shadow
Salva Me

You are the words of the song
Lacrymosa
You are the light
Dolorosa
You are the music that plays
Voca Me, Libera
You are the voice
Salva me
You are the day

Lacrymosa
Dolorosa
You are the voice that calls in the silence
You are the words of the song
You are the light
You are the voice
You are the music that plays
You are the voice
You are the light
You are the day
~adapted for Libera from Saint-Saens’ Carnival of the Animals (Aquarium)

 

 

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A Perfect Pear

“There are only ten minutes in the life of a pear when it is perfect to eat.”
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

A moment’s window of perfection is so fleeting
in a life of bruises, blemishes and worm holes.
Wait too long and nectar-smooth flesh
softens to mush and rot.

The unknown rests beneath a blushed veneer:
perhaps immature gritty fruit unripened,
or past-prime browning pulp readily
tossed aside for compost.

Our own sweet salvage from warming humus
depends not on flawless flesh down deep inside
but heaven’s grace dropped into our laps;
a perfect pear falls when ripe, tasting like a selfless gift.

“A man watches his pear-tree day after day, impatient for the ripening of the fruit. Let him attempt to force the process, and he may spoil both fruit and tree. But let him patiently wait, and the ripe pear at length falls into his lap!”
~ Abraham Lincoln