Seasons

On this 7th day of winter, 4 days before the beginning of a new year, I find myself reflecting on the passing of time and the seasons we experience. This poem by Ted Loeder from "Guerrillas of Grace" captures the rhythm of winter.

O God of all seasons and senses,

grant me your sense of timing

to submit gracefully

and rejoice quietly

in the turn of the seasons.

In this season of short days and long nights,

of grey and white and cold,

teach me the lessons of waiting

of the snow joining the mystery

of the hunkered-down seeds

growing in their sleep

watched over by gnarled-limbed, grandparent trees

resting from autumn's staggering energy,

of the silent whirling earth

circling to race back home to the sun

O God grant me your sense of timing.

In this season of short days and long nights,

of grey and white and cold,

teach me the lessons of endings;

children growing,

friends leaving,

jobs concluding,

stages finishing,

grieving over,

blaming over,

excuses over.

O God, grant me your sense of timing.

In this season of short days and long nights,

of grey and white and cold,

teach me the lessons of beginnings;

that such waitings and endings

may be a starting place,

a planting of seeds

which bring to birth

what is ready to be born-

something right and just and different'

a new song,

a deeper relationship,

a fuller love-in the fullness of your time.

O God grant me your sense of timing.