In the Footsteps of the Mystics: Wales and Ireland
Morning Circle
Opening Invocation:
As the deer longs for the waterbrook
So yearns my soul for you, O God
Lighting of the Candles
Prayer (written by Kayleen Asbo, said by all)
We gather today to remember
the Good, the True and the Beautiful
To find the seeds of hope
that are planted deep within our soul,
To hold the threads of grace
that weave together our world.
O Mystics through the ages,
Open our eyes
that we might see the realm spread before us;
Open our ears
that we might hear the song of the ages.
Open our hearts
that we might receive the unquenchable Light,
And walking in their footsteps,
We, too, might have the courage
To sail the uncharted seas
Toward the blessed Isle of Love.
Chant:
Open my heart, come in , come in
Open my heart, be one with me
Reading: Poem of the Day
Poems of the Day:
Saturday:
" The Way it Is" by William Stafford- read here
"The Silence of the Mind" by RS Thomas read here
Jesukin- Attributed St. Ita
It is Jesukin
who is nursed by me in my little hermitage:
though it be a cleric with treasures,
all is a lie save Jesukin.
The nursing I do in my house
is not the nursing of a base clown:
Jesus with the men of Heaven
under my heart every single night.
Young Jesukin, my eternal good!
to heed him is a cause of forgiveness,
the king who controls all things,
not to beseech Him will cause repentance.
It is Jesus, noble, angelic,
not an unlearned cleric,
who is fostered by me in my little hermitage,
Jesus the son of the Hebrew woman.
Sons of princes, sons of kings,
though they should come into my country,
I should not expect profit from them;
more likely, I think, from Jesukin.
Sing ye a chorus, O maidens,
to Him who has a right to your little tribute,
who sits in his place above,
though Jesukin is at my breast.
Saturday:
" The Way it Is" by William Stafford- read here
"The Silence of the Mind" by RS Thomas read here
Jesukin- Attributed St. Ita
It is Jesukin
who is nursed by me in my little hermitage:
though it be a cleric with treasures,
all is a lie save Jesukin.
The nursing I do in my house
is not the nursing of a base clown:
Jesus with the men of Heaven
under my heart every single night.
Young Jesukin, my eternal good!
to heed him is a cause of forgiveness,
the king who controls all things,
not to beseech Him will cause repentance.
It is Jesus, noble, angelic,
not an unlearned cleric,
who is fostered by me in my little hermitage,
Jesus the son of the Hebrew woman.
Sons of princes, sons of kings,
though they should come into my country,
I should not expect profit from them;
more likely, I think, from Jesukin.
Sing ye a chorus, O maidens,
to Him who has a right to your little tribute,
who sits in his place above,
though Jesukin is at my breast.
