November 30: Thanks for Giving Thanks Prayer

We pause now during this hour to give thanks—

not out of a sense of obligation or mindless ritual,

not out of a sense of guilt for what we have,

not out of a sense of shame for what we have not done—

rather, we give thanks for the sake of giving thanks,

as a natural response to gifts freely given and received.

We give thanks as a way of connecting to our own lives

and to the life of the world around us.

We give thanks in order to bring ourselves closer

to the people who matter most to us

and to bring us closer to the selves we long to be.

We pause now for moment of silence in which to give thanks.

May thanks rise up and flow out of us naturally each day.

May thanks become for us a way of living.

And may our thanks help us transform our lives

as we work for healing and compassion

in a world often marked by woundedness and despair. Amen!

November 29: No Easy Answers

Often, there are no easy answers,

but that doesn’t mean we should

always choose the hard ones. No,

life is not just about the answers.

It is more about holding questions

for far longer than is comfortable—

holding some questions even unto

death and beyond, holding some

that have been passed down through

many generations, holding all while

knowing that it is the holding itself

that is the sacred task, the holy quest.

This is not a quiz show. This is life.

Thanks Each Day

I shall give thanks on this day that follows

Thanksgiving Day, and I shall give thanks

on the day that follows this one, and I hope

that I shall give thanks each day that I am able,

as long as heart and lungs and spirit will allow

and maybe even after—and maybe, even

from the grave, faint songs of thanksgiving might 

be heard on bitterly cold late-November days 

as snowflakes drift down on the living and the dead.

November 27: Giving Thanks for Giving Thanks

It’s Thanksgiving Day, and I’m sick with a cold

and I’m still trying to give thanks for all of it—

give thanks for having really good work to do

and a house and a loving wife and daughter

and for music that has run through my life

as aong as I can remember, bringing beauty

everywhere all the time, and for good health

even when I’m sick, even when I’m disgusted,

even when I just want to be able to breathe—

even then am giving thanks for giving thanks.

November 26: Families on TV

Among the leaves are scattered memories

of past Thanksgiving celebrations, time-worn

but persistent childhood thoughts that mingled

dread with excitement in nearly equal parts.

It was impossible to understand my family then,

even more so extended family—grandparents,

cousins, aunts and uncles, all veiled in mystery

created by time and distance and only occasional

awkward get-togethers where we all pretended

to be some version of the families we saw on TV.

November 25: First Quarter of the 21st Century

The first quarter of the 21st century

is nearing its end, and the reviews

so far, honestly, are not that great.

It’s been a good period for violence

and corruption and bigoted fearmongering

but a bad time for peace, prosperity

and justice for all. Perhaps the second act

will bring unexpected plot upturns or even

a little desperately needed deus ex machina.

November 24: Interstate 70

Interstate 70, take me home—

your asphalt beckons, 

traffic calls, yellow lines

all know my name, from here

to Pittsburgh, let us drive

in peace, in safety, and in thanks

for roads and highways 

built by others, shared by all.

November 23: Making Space Prayer

We take time now, as we are gathered here together

to make space for whatever we are feeling in this moment,

to make space for sorrows as well as joys, failures as well as triumphs,

to make space for those things that we are dreading

as well as those things we look forward to with joy,

to make space for harsh truth and grieving as well as hope,

to make space for not just our own feelings and experiences

but also for the feelings and experiences of others.

Let us pause for a moment of silence to consider this moment

and all that we bring to it, on our own and with others.

May we take time to feel what we are feeling

throughout this busy holiday season.

May we make space for all that is present,

both the seen and the unseen.

And may we create time and space

for beathing in this moment

and in all the moments of our lives,

now and always, Amen!

November 22: Nuts and Seeds

It is the time of nuts and seeds

for winter's chill is coming near

and cold winds augur colder

still and earth’s fires beckon

deep and darkness rises soon

and sooner with each passing day.

November 21: Light in the Heart

Light is growing scarcer 

each day as we near 

the winter solstice,

but there is light enough

to do what is needed, 

enough to do the work 

of kindness and justice,

the work of love—

all of which generates 

its own light in the heart.

November 20: Yellow Ribbon

Through the mist behind our house

I see children on the next street over

walking to school on this fall day,

and I find myself back at Whitney Elementary,

where I can see its shiny floors, buffed

day after day by this smiling giant

of a custodian whose name, against all odds,

was Herbie, a man who held himself

straight as an arrow, as if he were still

in the Navy as he swept and mopped

and ran the electric buffer with cleaning solution

that still hangs in my nostrils, and,

as he worked, he hummed and sang all the while.

I’ll always remember the time he sang along

with us during our fifth-grade chorus rehearsal—

his basso profundo adding weight

to our thin changing voices as we warbled,

“Tie a yellow ribbon ‘round the ole oak tree . . .”

It was ridiculous and unexpectedly beautiful,

and I love those moments and those memories..

November 19: Earth Grows Still

The sun is up there somewhere, this I know

though darkened cloud is all that I can see

on this November morn when life is full

but trees are bare, and earth grows still and cold.

November 18: Weight of the Year

Feeling the accumulated 

weight of the year

as the weeks and days 

dwindle down to few

and the words pile up 

on top of each other,

I choose to write more 

sparingly than before

and work to open heart 

wider than mind.

November 17: Dying and Alive

The world is dying and

alive with possibilities

at the same time. What

we choose to do today

will make a difference.

November 16: Shape of Justice Prayer

In a world misshapen by oppression, 

we long to give life the shape of justice.

In a world that mocks empathy, 

we long for compassion to stir in our hearts.

In a world that seems to have come unmoored, 

we long for roots that ground us.

In a world that can seem cold and lonely, 

we long for care and comfort and love.

In this moment, we pause for silence 

to sense the spirit of life that sustains us,

That nourishes us, lifts us up and sets us free. 

We pause now for a moment of silence.

May our troubled minds find peace.

May our troubled hearts find love.

And may our troubled souls find rest

In the spirit of life and love always. Amen!

November 15: No Time Like the Present

No time like the present—though

there are and will be times a lot

like this, especially after the fact

when memory, the great leveler,

evens things out in contourless

neutral tones, and all that was

urgent disappears or is forgotten.

Still, there's no time like the present

so act now before it all is gone.

November 14: Not Yet Winter

It’s not yet winter, and it’s no longer fall—

it’s November-time, when scarce light

and scarcer color produce an absence

that is also very much a presence felt

in cold chills and morning listlessness,

a longing to remain in bed all morning

and allow the world to rest without me.

November 13: Racing Toward the Holidays

Racing toward the holidays, careening

off spiritual guardrails and tumbling

through the days as each gives way

to the next, working feverishly

toward maybe, possibly, just

two or three moments of

nothing but pure quiet.

November 12: Breezes Grow Wistful

Breezes grow wistful

in mid-November

when leaves have

fallen and winds

blow cold through

barren landscapes

and fallow fields as

our vision is tinged

with brown and gray.

November 11: Too-Busy Day

Too-busy day planned

but music gives life meaning

and so I sing still 

November 10: O Fall

O Fall! In beauty and in frost you come

this cold November day to claim my heart

while here I sit composing meager lines

of poetry that fail to capture all

that swoops and soars within and just beyond

this room whose windows hold my gaze each day.

Come Autumn, now with tiny flakes of snow.

November 9: Peace and Quiet Prayer

Sometimes the noise of life—

the sheer volume of noisiness all around us—

can feel like too much, can feel like 

something that bears down on us

like a heavy weight at a time when, 

more than ever, we need to feel lifted up.

Sometimes, it is hard even to hear ourselves think 

when shouting is all around,

when discussion has become eclipsed by yelling, 

with little or no regard for reason,

with little or no regard for the common good 

or caring for one another. Sometimes we wonder 

if peace and quiet will ever return to our lives,

to the life of our world, to the way 

we operate as a people—we wonder if we will

even be capable of recognizing healing quiet 

when it appears. And so it is that we pause now 

for a moment of silence to experience together

something like the peace and quiet 

we yearn for in our lives and in the world.

May we strive always for greater service, for love and justice.

May we bind our hearts together in this great undertaking.

And may we make room for peace and quiet to enter our lives.

Amen!

November 8: Fall Makes Space

Fall makes space 

to sense things

more clearly, 

as trees empty

themselves of leaves, 

as skies grow flat and gray, 

as warmth moves south, 

as cold wind blows 

everything around,

it’s easier to see 

the underlying structure 

of not just trees

and fields, but also 

of the passing of time—

to see more clearly

the underlying structure

of the human heart.

November 7: Winds Blow Colder Now

The winds blow colder now

than yesterday and bland 

gray skies make room 

for glowing leaves

to radiate amid 

the growing brown of fall.