One of the "tools" I've been using to help me listen better the past few days is this book: The Artist's Rule: Nurturing Your Creative Soul with Monastic Wisdom. The prompt for today was to write a poem with the prompt "I am going to start living like a monk." Now, I'm no poet. Seriously, I wish I knew more about how to write poetry, but I don't. And somehow it feels more vulnerable than just writing for me, but nevertheless - here's what I came up with during a few blessed quiet minutes this morning.
Pausing for breathing, I find space sacred
Holy moments; quiet routines that beckon
I feel my own heartbeat matching His hopeful
Even as I step feet into shoes and brush mascara on sparse lashes,
Connecting to the holy in the mundane
The sacred in the everyday, the quiet even in the chaos
Slicing grapes in half, pouring milk inevitably spilled
Filling water bowl knocked over again by basketballs
Picking up toys, they go behind me dumping out new ones
Dishes stack and laundry piles the very moment I empty the sink and basket
And my own space fills just as quickly
The rooster crows down the street, marking the day not just the dawn
And I wonder how to live like a monk in a life like mine
How to find sacred space and mark the hours
To open arms and receive days as gifts
a thing to be given away
Worth fighting through webs of clutter and chaos
Clearing surfaces simplifying space
attending always to the slow work of God
A faded green couch mottled by spills
becomes my altar and I offer prayer
For days less led by whims
and instead more, not routine, but intentionality
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