Longing -- Mary Oliver Poem #5
A Reading from Psalm 148
1 Praise the LORD. Praise the LORD from the heavens; praise him in the heights above. 2 Praise him, all his angels; praise him, all his heavenly hosts. 3 Praise him, sun and moon; praise him, all you shining stars. 4 Praise him, you highest heavens and you waters above the skies. |
5 Let them praise the name of the LORD,
for at his command they were created,
6 and he established them for ever and ever—
he issued a decree that will never pass away.
7 Praise the LORD from the earth,
you great sea creatures and all ocean depths,
8 lightning and hail, snow and clouds,
stormy winds that do his bidding,
9 you mountains and all hills,
fruit trees and all cedars,
10 wild animals and all cattle,
small creatures and flying birds,
11 kings of the earth and all nations,
you princes and all rulers on earth,
12 young men and women,
old men and children.
13 Let them praise the name of the LORD,
for his name alone is exalted;
his splendor is above the earth and the heavens.
14 And he has raised up for his people a horn,
the praise of all his faithful servants,
of Israel, the people close to his heart.
Praise the LORD.
A Poem by Mary Oliver
I had such a longing for virtue, for company.
I wanted Christ to be as close as the cross I wear.
I wanted to read and serve, to touch the altar linen.
Instead I went back to the woods where not a single tree
turns its face away.
Instead I prayed, oh Lord, let me be something
useful and unpretentious.
Even the chimney swift sings.
Even the cobblestones have a task to do, and do it well.
Lord, let me be a flower, even a tare: or a sparrow.
Or the smallest bright stone in a ring worn by someone
brave and kind, whose name I will never know.
Lord, when I sleep I feel you near.
When I wake, and you are wiping the stars away,
I rise quickly, hoping to be like your wild child
the rose, the honey-maker the honey-vine;
A bird shouting its joy as it floats
through the gift you have given us: another day.
A Few Questions to Ponder for Prayer
In the hidden silence of your heart, what do you really want to be?
Imagining that everything can indeed praise God, how do the different animals and things and people give their praise? How do they do their God-given, joy-inducing work?
How do you (or could you) praise God as freely and fully as possible? With words and deeds? With your work and your play?
for at his command they were created,
6 and he established them for ever and ever—
he issued a decree that will never pass away.
7 Praise the LORD from the earth,
you great sea creatures and all ocean depths,
8 lightning and hail, snow and clouds,
stormy winds that do his bidding,
9 you mountains and all hills,
fruit trees and all cedars,
10 wild animals and all cattle,
small creatures and flying birds,
11 kings of the earth and all nations,
you princes and all rulers on earth,
12 young men and women,
old men and children.
13 Let them praise the name of the LORD,
for his name alone is exalted;
his splendor is above the earth and the heavens.
14 And he has raised up for his people a horn,
the praise of all his faithful servants,
of Israel, the people close to his heart.
Praise the LORD.
A Poem by Mary Oliver
I had such a longing for virtue, for company.
I wanted Christ to be as close as the cross I wear.
I wanted to read and serve, to touch the altar linen.
Instead I went back to the woods where not a single tree
turns its face away.
Instead I prayed, oh Lord, let me be something
useful and unpretentious.
Even the chimney swift sings.
Even the cobblestones have a task to do, and do it well.
Lord, let me be a flower, even a tare: or a sparrow.
Or the smallest bright stone in a ring worn by someone
brave and kind, whose name I will never know.
Lord, when I sleep I feel you near.
When I wake, and you are wiping the stars away,
I rise quickly, hoping to be like your wild child
the rose, the honey-maker the honey-vine;
A bird shouting its joy as it floats
through the gift you have given us: another day.
A Few Questions to Ponder for Prayer
In the hidden silence of your heart, what do you really want to be?
Imagining that everything can indeed praise God, how do the different animals and things and people give their praise? How do they do their God-given, joy-inducing work?
How do you (or could you) praise God as freely and fully as possible? With words and deeds? With your work and your play?