Saturday, June 25, 2022

For My Friend

 How often the Beloved weeps with compassion over those who are crushed in spirit.
   -from Psam 34, Praying the Psalms, Nan Merrill

I am comforted by knowing that the Beloved knows our pain and sorrows, 
feels the devastation of life lived under crushing burdens.

I, too, feel compassion for those who are struggling with their troubles,
who are holding on by a tiny, thin thread as the world moves in and on,
oblivious to their pain.

Expectations to be one way or another 
add to the unrest.

Perhaps my purpose is to listen, 
to weep with, 
to offer a place to rest a weary heart.

Oh, that the Beloved will use me,
through my tears,
to open a path of comfort, 
and strength, 
and renewal;
that I may show Love's way.

Dawn M. Switzer 

Monday, May 16, 2022

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

Tuesday, April 12, 2022

morning Lent day twenty-five

three species of birds
this morning
at the feeder
designed for 

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

Saturday, April 2, 2022

early morning, Lent, day eighteen

I wake early with a psalm
singing in my soul
perhaps I had been 
praying it 
in my sleep
our small choir
the psalm 
on Sunday mornings
this must have been one recently
sung or rehearsed

I wake again at 
hearing six notes from an
so clearly
I sit up in wonder
there is no organ here

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."

Tuesday, March 29, 2022

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

Saturday, March 19, 2022

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



Thursday, March 3, 2022

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
Or is it placed carefully
   strand by strand
   to add sparkle and reflect light

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

Yet another side of me longs
to be the conduit
for the Designer
listening for the angels' voices
placing the shiny bits 
so to open transparent windows into my soul
and let the light of Christ pass through. 

Dawn M. Switzer
March 2-3, 2022

Tuesday, February 1, 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
his red shoes
carrying him closer and closer
he steps
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”
Lucien, Child of God
connecting us all with the unseen
gossamer lines of God’s love
drawing us one to the other
his tiny voice a call to all of us
“look around you ~ lookit”