Trinity Haiku Prayers

 dreams of disaster

anguish waiting to befall

oh God, protect me

 

the dawn comes again

faithful companion of days

Jesus, give me hope

 

awake and rising

my soul wide and waiting

Spirit, enter in

  

 

Dawn M. Switzer

February 15-21, 2022

morning Lent day twenty-five

three

three species of birds

this morning

at the feeder

designed for 

one

the hummingbird

comes early

with his tiny

needle-like beak in the feeder

& drinks of the nectar

the finches

male & female

fly back and forth

their beaks not created 

for this feeder

but they find a way 

& drink of the nectar

the brilliant hooded oriole

back after an absence

(where does he go?)

angles his beak just so

& drinks of the nectar

three species of birds

are filled from 

one feeder

tended to by 

this human

who watches in 

the mornings 

and adores their 

songs of thanks

early morning, Lent, day eighteen

I wake early with a psalm

refrain

singing in my soul

perhaps I had been 

praying it 

in my sleep

our small choir

sings

the psalm 

on Sunday mornings

this must have been one recently

sung or rehearsed

I wake again at 

daybreak

hearing six notes from an

organ

so clearly

I sit up in wonder

searching

there is no organ here

downstairs

with my tea I settle in

to read the Words from the 

Daily Lectionary

Psalm first,

as usual,

my soul sings again

"O God, you are my God;

    eagerly I seek you."

evening, Lent day seven

 my fourth zoom of the day

begins this evening, in just a moment

zoom, zoom

I think of the Mazda ads

"zoom zoom"

whispers the boy

I once had a Mazda sports car

and drove faster

I think of my camera lens

zoom zoom

my brain tells me

as I look through the viewfinder

and focus closer

zoom zoom

faster on the roads of life or

closer to study the life around us

this is the endless question asked

this Lent calls me to the lens 

and not the Mazda

to savor the slower road of examination

all the details that make you you

and me me

and the intersections 

where Jesus blurs

the yellow lines of division

zoom zoom

morning, Lent, day two

soft snores of the puppy

   on the sofa next to me

tea in my Christmas mug

   almost gone

gentle meditative music

overcast sky, just a hint of light

the house finch singing

   his daybreak song

my cozy sweater

   years old, familiar

David, Ezekiel, Paul, and John

   my companions

morning, Lent, day two

 

 

morning, Ash Wednesday

 A reflection on Put Away the Tinsel by Ann Weems

First of all, do I really like tinsel?

What exactly is it for?

Yes, it's an added decoration to the Christmas tree. 

What is its purpose?

Is it thrown on 

   in big clumps

   hiding other decorations

   obscuring.

Or is it placed carefully

   strand by strand

   to add sparkle and reflect light

   expanding.

There is tinsel all over my life, 

its purpose uncertain.

If I'm honest, much of it has been 

thrown on, flung wildly

creating a screen to draw the eye away

as I run 

from those parts of me

I want to keep

hidden.

Yet another side of me longs

to be the conduit

for the Designer

listening for the angels' voices

placing the shiny bits 

deliberately

so to open transparent windows into my soul

and let the light of Christ pass through. 

Dawn M. Switzer

March 2-3, 2022

Drawn to the Altar

 Inspired by Sunday morning at St. Peter's Episcopal Church, San Pedro

January 23, 2022 

the little boy walks forward
confidently
his red shoes
carrying him closer and closer
he steps
carefully
up the step one foot and then the other;
turns and looks at all of us sitting there
looking at him
 
Lucien, drawn to the Altar
was drawing our eyes
and our hearts
to him and to 
Jesus of the Little Children
 
he moves with purpose
around to the Chapel
drawn to the Altar there
in silent conversation
with God the Holy Father
 
he leaves the Altars,
also leaving us all
with full hearts
reminded, we too, are
children of God;
and he returns to his
parents present in the pews
 
the little boy comes forward
once again
stepping carefully up the step
and goes to each tall candlestick
looking up
with wonder on his face
seeing the light of Christ
in the flames
“ooooo lookit”
“lookit”
 
Lucien, Child of God
connecting us all with the unseen
gossamer lines of God’s love
drawing us one to the other
together
interwoven
his tiny voice a call to all of us
“look around you ~ lookit”