Song of the Cirrus Cloud

Holy Healer, settle me . . .

so that I would submit my soul

to the leading of Your Spirit.

Wash my mind with the Bridal veil of Your peace.


Create in me the warm ambient glow

that invites frightened souls

to draw near to the Stillness.


Let me cradle the delicate threads

of patience, kindness, and gentleness

with tender hands that are practiced

in meticulous care

(for I want to be a weaver of

the fabric of the heart).


Remind me to move slowly

as though in an ICU.

Grant me the grace to know the subtlety and nuance

of Your quiet Whisper

as I gingerly apply the oil of Your truth

to dressings that must daily be changed.


Let me carefully, slowly,

peel back the linen of Your righteousness and purity

which absorbs out of us

the festering infection of old wounds . . .

sustained by searing words that sank through the spirit

branding with third-degree lies.


[From the book The Voice of Rachel Weeping: A Creative Journey of Compassion, Healing, and Hope for Abused Women available through Xulon Press.]

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