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Praying, Healing, Life Giving Presence
 

My Scarf Rose-black

He takes the threads of life and
Weaves a pattern on my soul
Faint pink at first
As if to woo my senses
As the wind caresses gold-red sand
Would one not blush to be kissed
Ever so gently by this Lover
Beloved?
And so the thread
Crimsons into a darker hue

More firmly embraced
So deeper the thread grows rose
And the sweet Darling
As if to tease my soul out of its swoon
Steals an ebony flash
Across its path
Ah! Seems it not ugly of Him
So to shatter my soul with black?

Dear no!
Blackness only accentuates the pink
That's why He scatters the absence of light
Across my soul
The scarf He wove
And so
When the ebony steals a kiss like cold death and
Sends it dancing across my soul
Is it not that I might see
How deep, indeed,it was
The rose?
Else for the black
I might not see the beauty
As it deepened, deepened, deepened
Warmed and warmed
Until I, myself, cried out
O, Ebony, come cool my soul

Sr. Judith Piszyk, OSBM

 

Jottings by Judith Home

 

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