About this Poet:
Sandra Savage was born in Saskatoon and moved to Calgary in 1992. She has studied poetry with Patrick Lane, Richard Harrisson, Margaret Gibson, and Micheline Maylor. She has been published in print at Freefall Magazine and Great Lakes Gazette. She has been published online at Utmost Christian Writers and Verse Daily. Sandra is an avid birdwatcher.
The World is Reflected in Each Rain-Droplet Covered Leaf
Easter Day: The Day of the Resurrection
Procession and Solemn Eucharist
April 7, 2007
…and that they may obtain their petitions make them to ask such things
as shall please thee… Collect – The Tenth Sunday After Trinity (BCP)
Let us pray.
My knees fall into hollowed kneelers, sunken
a hundred years of prayer, I hear all their invocations,
endless litanies, join my voice to their supplications.
The peace of the Lord be with you.
Lord, you’ve blessed me ninety years.
Still I pray: not yet.
I believe in one God
How many sunrises before you created man?
A sunset follows each, rages crimson at its end.
A death, every birth.
Do this in remembrance of me
Lord, we all wear black. Today,
we beseech you: no telegrams.
We are not worthy
Overnight, the temperature drops twenty degrees.
A goose sleeps as the pond freezes, traps it. Tracks,
coyotes, will return when the goose has weakened.
he suffered death and was buried
Lord, how do I live with milk inside
no mouth to nurse?
grant us thy peace
I feel I’m scraping char off a cremated steak,
drinking corrupted water from a shattered glass.
I know the utter futility of hope.
O Lamb of God, that takest away the sin of the world
Lord, she was too young, the pregnancy, her response.
I implore you: forgive her, let her live. And heal.
Have mercy upon us, most merciful Father
How does the osprey dive into water?
It cannot swim, somehow trusts it will grab the fish,
surface and fly, shake off the river, death.
Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners
Lord, I bleed. He wields the knife with his words.
If they were tangible wounds, my flesh rent open,
I could leave. I beg you: give me strength.
who by his death hath destroyed death
Mid-winter, chickadees feed in flocks,
call dee-dee-dee as if it were spring,
and they could feel the life to come.
I look for the resurrection of the dead
Lord, thank you for giving us these people, who saved
us from fire, who care for us as we rebuild.
And the life of the world to come
A hawk flies up river. I chase, lose ground
until it circles, seeks prey. I gain, it flies, I trail.
We repeat this cycle. Yet still, I want to follow.
Holy, Holy, Holy Lord, God of hosts,
Heaven and earth are full of thy glory
Thank you God, for twenty fingers, twenty toes.
I pray, let them come home soon.
that we may evermore dwell in him and he in us
Insects hatch on the lake’s surface. A gull calls,
spreads its discovery. Other gulls, many different
birds respond, feed on these living waters.
God, of God; Light, of Light
Lord, I’m grateful for the doctor guided,
my son’s small scars. Please, hold him in your hand.
Glory be to God on high
An adult eagle, those claws, that beak, kill.
By natural instinct, it tears strips of dead flesh
to feed its young, delicate beak and patience.
Our Father, who art in Heaven
Lord, thank you for your presence,
your strength when I am weak,
your love when I am alone,
your life. Amen.
For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory
For ever and ever.
O Lord, even when my eyes are closed
your world’s reflected in each rain-
droplet covered leaf. Amen.
Copyright ©2011 by Sandra Savage