Water

The rain has begun to fall in Portland.
The sun still breaks through the clouds most days
and it is a good season for rainbows.
But the ground will stay wet until summer
and we make no outside plans more than a few hours ahead of time.

Water has always been a great storyteller and she uses all the voices.
Water teaches us how to yield, how to soften.
water teaches us how to carve out space for ourselves.
Water invites to change and change back again
How to play with our form
without losing ourselves.

If you are snow or ice, if you are steam or fog or a cloud,
If you are falling rain or an ocean swell
If you are glacial or burbling
You are still water.

There are days I wish I could reach in and bathe my soul
I want to be gaze into the smooth surface of Love herself,
and untangle all the anxiety gently
letting the gentle ripples
change my face.

I want to leap in and
be washed in something kinder than my thoughts,
to be held long enough that the fear loosens its grip,
to be named beloved again and again until the words take root.

Baptism was my old word for this

But now Grace is more bubble baths than baptismal fonts
Mercy is rain and the waterslide at the community center,
Love is a puddle perfect for splashing
in your good blue boots

***

And so my loves and my dear ones,

May you listen to the stories of water around you.
May the rain teach you patience
and the river show you strength.
I pray you splash in love and
bathe in joy.
I pray that you are submerged in reverence
for yourself and for this beautiful and broken world.
And when you rise up fresh and clean
and still fully yourself
no matter what form you are taking today
may you know that you are
beloved

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