A crippled child
Said, “How shall I dance?”
Let your heart dance
We said.
Then the invalid said:
“How shall I sing?”
Let your heart sing
We said
Then spoke the poor dead thistle,
But I, how shall I dance?”
Let your heart fly to the wind
We said.
Then God spoke from above
“How shall I descend from the blue?”
Come dance for us here in the light
We said.
All the valley is dancing
Together under the sun,
And the heart of him who joins us not
Is turned to dust, to dust.
“I do not think I have ever seen anything more beautiful
than the bluebell I have been looking at.
I know the beauty of our Lord by it.” ~ Gerald Manley Hopkins
A yellow flower
(Light and spirit)
Sings by itself
For nobody.
A golden spirit
(Light and emptiness)
Sings without a word
By itself.
Let no one touch this gentle sun
In whose dark eye
Someone is awake.
(No light, no gold, no name, no color
And no thought:
O, wide awake!)
A golden heaven
Sings by itself
A song to nobody.
Most high, all-powerful, all good, Lord!
All praise is yours, all glory, all honor
And all blessing.
To you alone, Most High, do they belong.
No mortal lips are worthy
To pronounce your name.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through all that you have made,
And first my lord Brother Sun,
Who brings the day; and light you give to us through him.
How beautiful is he, how radiant in all his splendor!
Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Moon and Stars;
In the heavens you have made them, bright
And precious and fair.
All praise be yours, My Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air,
And fair and stormy, all the weather’s moods,
By which you cherish all that you have made.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Water,
So useful, lowly, precious and pure.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
Through whom you brighten up the night.
How beautiful is he, how gay! Full of power and strength.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Earth, our mother,
Who feeds us in her sovereignty and produces
Various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through those who grant pardon
For love of you; through those who endure
Sickness and trial.
Happy those who endure in peace,
By you, Most High, they will be crowned.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Death,
From whose embrace no mortal can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!
Happy those She finds doing your will!
The second death can do no harm to them.
Praise and bless my Lord, and give him thanks,
And serve him with great humility.
I am that.
I am that which is highest.
I am that which is lowest.
I am that which is All.
I didn’t confine my anger to doctors and nurses and hospital staff. I was angry with God. I quit speaking to Him. My faith in God was on life support. Here is an excerpt from my Journal Entry on my unanswered prayers in Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again
“I could not imagine God’s will being different from mine. Somehow, I thought God would not reject my argument. After all, I was making my case on love. How could God refuse my prayer? All I heard was the deafening sound of more silence. Each day Babe grew weaker. Her eyes remained closed, and even her lips ceased to mouth the words “I love you.” Her hand no longer squeezed mine in response when I told her I loved her.
Nurses implored me to tell Babe it was okay to die. I refused. I wouldn’t quit. That was our deal. I promised. Medical staff would demand to know what I wanted for her last moments in this world. I regularly answered, “A miracle.”
I prayed on and on as Babe continued to slide away from me. I struggled with my will versus God’s will. The only time I asked God for his will to be done was the day Babe died. And I haven’t been grateful for anything since that day.”
Ordering information for the paperback or ebook version of Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again may be found at https://dancingalone530.com/dancing-alone/
Excerpt From: Dancing Alone: Learning to Live Again by Ray Calabrese. This material is protected by copyright
If He
let go of my hand, I would
weep so loudly,
I would petition with all my might, I would cause
so much trouble
that I bet God would come to His senses
and never do that
again.
Never go gloomy, man with a mind,
Hope is a better companion than fear;
Providence, ever benignant and kind,
Gives with a smile what you take with a tear;
All will be right,
Look to the light.
Morning was ever the daughter of night;
All that was black will be all that is bright,
Cheerily, cheerily, then cheer up.
Many a foe is a friend in disguise,
Many a trouble a blessing most true,
Helping the heart to be happy and wise,
With love ever precious and joys ever new.
Stand in the van,
Strike like a man!
This is the bravest and cleverest plan;
Trusting in God while you do what you can.
Cheerily, cheerily, then cheer up.
Anonymous
Hope is the word which God has written on the brow of every man.
Victor Hugo
Even after all this time
The sun never says to the earth,
“You owe Me.”
Look what happens with
A love like that,
It lights the Whole Sky.
Hafiz
