As you know (if you’ve been following my blog) I’ve been reading David Adam’s work, A Desert in the Ocean. This little book is dense with Spirit inspiration.
Today, I was struck by the third-century Celtic perspective about resurrection. They didn’t focus on a post-death experience. Instead, from their perspective, the place of their resurrection was when they found their life’s purpose and entered into it.
It is an affirmation of my belief that we are called to the place where our greatest passions meet the world’s greatest needs. In that crossroads lies our vocation, our joy, and according to the Celts, our resurrection.
The Place of My Resurrection
Holy Awen
breathe me
to the place of my resurrection.
Hang me in the crossroads
a gangly, grinning scarecrow
to draw the volt of raptors
whose dirty talons
claw
infecting healthy souls
with fear
of failure
of sorrow
of pain
of poverty
of sickness
of death.
Let the disease-ridden wake
land on me
for I’ve faced this flock
and their beaks have lost their pluck.
Let them land
for they will not feast
upon the chortling mad woman
hanging on her cross.
Ariyawen 