O God, we wake each day unable
to hide from ourselves or one another.
We acknowledge how beautiful
and yet
how fragile our lives are.
We come into this world as flesh
and blood.
This is our only way—to travel this earth
in bodies that will endure a thousand wounds,
take a thousand blows,
and give and receive love
in a thousand ways.
We bless you here and now for the mysterious wonder of these
dust breathing machines.
For the women who carried us the whole nine, and delivered us
from life unto life.
“You are very good!”
At least this is what we’ve been told, and try to remember.
We are more brilliant than 10,000 stars,
just a half-rung lower than angels.
We are passion too big for hearts to hold.
We are a brotherhood and sisterhood
peeking out from behind masks of reds, yellows,
blacks, and whites.
We are artist and masterpiece,
spotted with light,
shadowed by pain.
With this body,
we shoulder our better angels,
kick at our worst demons,
turn the other cheek and then turn back to see you still standing there.
Tiptoe down the hall at midnight,
cross the street to find it doesn’t matter how green the grass is,
grass is just ground,
and the whole earth has but one.
With this body, we work to make the day honest.
We feel the fire down
below,
we see it on the mountain—
thirsting for righteousness—and
we wonder at how it calls our name.
There is no other way, O God.
We come into this world as flesh
and blood.
We lay our hands
and hearts upon one another, we get blessed and cursed by it.
And in the end,
Love who put us here, takes us back.
And this is very good.
And we say, from head to toe, Amen.