careful of the cut (GS7)

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It shatters
And I struggle with clumsy fingers around fragments,
Careful of the cut.
This is too important to let lie,
This is too real to not try
But I end in blood and refraction.

What a thing to call a child to,
The sharp, queasy work of piecing some semblance of light from dark,
Of wholes from parts,
Children break more than they make,
And You send us to mend holes in hearts?
It takes steady hands and years of experience to perform such surgery.
We’ve hardly grasped gross motor skills.

Father,
Send us as creating, created whirlwinds of reiteration,
With our scotch tape and school glue
Into the fray of a people jagged with rage and hate.
And as we bloody our hands on their hurts and come away with scars of our own,
Make good use of this work,
This labor for wholeness,
This reconciling God to us, us to us, dust to dust,
A work partial until you set your scarred hand firmly round us
And mend us final.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
Matthew 5:9

(Liturgical poetry for the Sundays between Epiphany and Ash Wednesday is inspired by the Beatitudes, Matthew 5:3-12. Photo by Linnea Wheeler.)

Inherit the Wind (GS1)
Rain-world (GS2)
Quitting (GS3)
Count My Bones (GS4)
Let me be (GS5)
here (GS6)
Slap (GS8)

One thought on “careful of the cut (GS7)

  1. Made me recall something I wrote nearly 20 years ago. Still on Dropbox! Shattered glass on the shoulder faded label, indiscernible once ornate, gold-leaved and varnished now. Fails to even hold the fragments together once a capable vessel now a hazard not properly disposed of but passively swept to the side where it can do little damage Most gifted surgeon using the finest miracle paste could never approach what these many pieces were as one Better, gather the remains And form, by fire a new chalice smaller, perhaps but purer, further refined of greater value than that which was never broken

    Write On!

    Tim

    On Sun, Feb 19, 2017 at 10:01 PM Christopher Wheeler wrote:

    > chriswheelerwrites posted: ” It shatters And I struggle with clumsy > fingers around fragments, Careful of the cut. This is too important to let > lie, This is too real to not try But I end in blood and refraction. What a > thing to call a child to, The sharp, queasy work of piecing som” >

    Like

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