The Telling Place

Bless us Lord, this day, with vision.

May this place be a sacred place,

a telling place,

where heaven and earth meet.

(Celtic prayer of blessing)

Under The Pall

The pall had just alit
When the attack began;
Temperature rising sharply;
Oxygen all but sucked from the air;
Cramps knotting back, then shoulders;
Accusing and mocking voices joining the fray:
Taunting and mocking…mocking and taunting;
“Imposter! Fake! Charlatan!” they cried!
I lay besieged by an adamant onslaught of degradation and humiliation
Amid a cacophony of sounds, senses, and sentiments in utter darkness.

Overwhelmed…and undermanned,
I struggled to respond, stuttered for an answer;
But found no words nor voice to offer in reply.
Speechless, defenseless, disarmed, and exposed
Darkness pressed in tight around me…
Death rapping at the door.
“Who do you think you’re foolin’?” the accuser asks me,
“And what are you doin’ here on the floor?”
“Get up and get out now while you still got some pride
And before you go embarrass yourself more!”

But somewhere against that dark dissonant din
A spark pierced the blackness as a prayer recited from my heart:
“All powerful Holy Spirit come down on me and subdue me;
Bathe me with the brilliance of your light like dew!”
“All powerful Holy Spirit come down on me and subdue me;
Bathe me with the brilliance of your light like dew!”
Repeated, entreated, the Spirit does come;
The Light banishes all darkness and this battle is won.
His Presence and Peace are palpable.
The pall is lifted.

daleach ‘09