what is the dealio? I’m not sure I like the new format. Not only unclear as to whose foot is whose but who turned on the light? And why switch to LED lighting? Blink, Blink, Blink. OMG this is crisp and clean. What used to feel like a familiar pocket has been turned inside out. The old homestead has been flipped!!!
Here’s my contribution to the dance, using the words and picture of another, with the last stanza of the poem being the foot I grab.
Last month, my 70 year old Spiritual Director and former English professor told me of a trip she took in January to study Dante’s Inferno with a group of college students in Florence, Italy. One of the experiences that moved her took place after a service in the Chapel of San Miniato where the Eucharist was served on the crypt of St Minias. http://www.sacred-destinations.com/italy/florence-san-miniato-al-monte
As the group was dispersing, she saw an older Italian gentleman approach one of the large crucifixes hanging on the wall and reach out to grab hold of the the feet of Jesus which were in front of him at head level. As he stood there with his own head bowed and both hands holding the pierced feet, she realized she was seeing a body prayer that went beyond the comfort and formality of ritual to involve a felt connection. With “Whose foot is it anyway? being the question that seems to me to fit that story too!
Blessing for the Brokenhearted
There is no remedy for love but to love more.
– Henry David Thoreau
Let us agree
for now
that we will not say
the breaking
makes us stronger
or that it is better
to have this pain
than to have done
without this love.
Let us promise
we will not
tell ourselves
time will heal
the wound,
when every day
our waking
opens it anew.
Perhaps for now
it can be enough
to simply marvel
at the mystery
of how a heart
so broken
can go on beating,
as if it were made
for precisely this—
as if it knows
the only cure for love
is more of it,
as if it sees
the heart’s sole remedy
for breaking
is to love still,
as if it trusts
that its own
persistent pulse
is the rhythm
of a blessing
we cannot
begin to fathom
but will save us
nonetheless.
WHAT??? I didn’t do this! How did it happen? Maybe the old format expired?? I loved it. :_( Meanwhile, thank you for the poem. It’s not only beautiful but exactly what I needed to hear right now.
Ambiance 
LouiseM said,
February 20, 2017 at 3:17 pm
what is the dealio? I’m not sure I like the new format. Not only unclear as to whose foot is whose but who turned on the light? And why switch to LED lighting? Blink, Blink, Blink. OMG this is crisp and clean. What used to feel like a familiar pocket has been turned inside out. The old homestead has been flipped!!!
LouiseM said,
February 20, 2017 at 3:20 pm
Paradigm Shift!!!
I am liking the title and focus. A little more blinking and I might get used to this.
LouiseM said,
February 20, 2017 at 3:48 pm
Here’s my contribution to the dance, using the words and picture of another, with the last stanza of the poem being the foot I grab.
Last month, my 70 year old Spiritual Director and former English professor told me of a trip she took in January to study Dante’s Inferno with a group of college students in Florence, Italy. One of the experiences that moved her took place after a service in the Chapel of San Miniato where the Eucharist was served on the crypt of St Minias. http://www.sacred-destinations.com/italy/florence-san-miniato-al-monte
As the group was dispersing, she saw an older Italian gentleman approach one of the large crucifixes hanging on the wall and reach out to grab hold of the the feet of Jesus which were in front of him at head level. As he stood there with his own head bowed and both hands holding the pierced feet, she realized she was seeing a body prayer that went beyond the comfort and formality of ritual to involve a felt connection. With “Whose foot is it anyway? being the question that seems to me to fit that story too!
Blessing for the Brokenhearted
There is no remedy for love but to love more.
– Henry David Thoreau
Let us agree
for now
that we will not say
the breaking
makes us stronger
or that it is better
to have this pain
than to have done
without this love.
Let us promise
we will not
tell ourselves
time will heal
the wound,
when every day
our waking
opens it anew.
Perhaps for now
it can be enough
to simply marvel
at the mystery
of how a heart
so broken
can go on beating,
as if it were made
for precisely this—
as if it knows
the only cure for love
is more of it,
as if it sees
the heart’s sole remedy
for breaking
is to love still,
as if it trusts
that its own
persistent pulse
is the rhythm
of a blessing
we cannot
begin to fathom
but will save us
nonetheless.
—Jan Richardson
amba12 said,
February 20, 2017 at 4:57 pm
WHAT??? I didn’t do this! How did it happen? Maybe the old format expired?? I loved it. :_( Meanwhile, thank you for the poem. It’s not only beautiful but exactly what I needed to hear right now.
amba12 said,
February 23, 2017 at 2:11 am
I got it restored!!