Solitude-5/26/2002

Grant me a place that is far and yet near

That can support the laughter, as well as the fear

That can absorb the pain of terrorized rain

That can fly a kite in the sky without pain

Grant me a place fit for a king

Wearing a beautiful signet ring

But within this place the poor too must dwell

Leave some room for heaven and hell

Show me a forest, but not just of green

All of the colors and those in between

Shades and shards at home must be

Within this crucible of forestry

Help me locate that one sphere

Where the silence and can be both far and near

Where puppets are free to hear the birds of spring

And salute them as they fly holding the marionettes’ string

Hear me from within solitude’s cell

Like a monk of old

I draw water from a well

Crystal and pure in its form

Help us reclaim

The love we have shorn

To heal those we maim

Even ourselves

When we forget that we are mere dust from shelves

I am searching the night sky with stars yet bright

I am searching the dawn

With the raven streaked light

Sometimes I am cold

Then I am warm

Standing in the sacred place

Where sun and storm

Together strike at my face

Simultaneously to chide and yet to inform

Grant me a trace of sacred reprieve

I will not linger

I shall leave

In time and in the space

Governed always by the grace

Of solitude’s clues and solitude’s pace

Prayerfully submitted by Deacon Frank Attanasia Metropolitan New York Synod of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America Southwest Brooklyn Conference USA