A Prayer for Ordinary Time

Now we see no great descent or resurrection,

no epiphanic flash of glory—

but our earth-days lengthen in procession;

figs swell, buckeye bloom,

4^th graders clean their desks with Windex,

civil servants dream about vacation,

dove & barn-swallow dart and nest.

We too plant, harvest, travel, play:

The air fills with the smell of roofing tar.

O god of fat & marrow,

god of the shadow of wings;

god of trumpets, flinty rock,

trombones, oil & honey, prophets;

of signs & wonders, justice, salt;

God of miracles & transports,

come to us now as ordinary time,

as graduations, welcome boredom, dust-motes;

as work and rest, as naptime;

as basketball thundering on the park court.

Be as children calling before dinner, as the fullness

of freeway engines, freight trains, architects’ plans

in sheaths, also as travellers sleeping

under the dark-leaved cherry with their backpacks.

Shapeshifting god, god of earthen vessels,

rest with us now as plenty, as enoughness.

Be our contentment. Let your peace

swim at dusk, let it  also be

By Tess Taylor, Poet-in-Residence, First Congregational Church of Berkeley – July 1st, 2013