Dear Friends,

 We pray you are safe and well.

Today's Meditation is lovely poem from Mary Oliver. In it she says, "the path to heaven is in the imagination with which you perceive this world and the gestures with which you honor it."

She also refers to the mystical poet William Blake. In his poem "Tiger, Tiger burning bright," which you probably remember from school days, Blake ponders "what immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry." All leading us to contemplate nature and our lives with awe and delight.

We invite you to join us as we commit ourselves to working tirelessly to end systemic and structural racism in our society, in healthcare, in the workplace, in the Church--wherever it shows up so that everyone may come to have more abundant life. May this meditation nourish our contemplative-active hearts and sustain all of us in action.

In the spirit of our philosophy of co-creating community and our awareness that the Spirit speaks through each of us, we invite you to share your meditations with us as well. We truly believe that in God’s economy of abundance, when we share our blessings, our thoughts, our feelings, we are all made richer.

We hope and pray that you and your loved ones experience genuine peace of mind and heart, and remain in good health during this challenging time.

In this Easter Season may you find peace, healing, hope, and the infusion of joy in your life!

With our love and care,

Ron & Jean

MEDITATION 333: Mary Oliver: "the path to heaven is in the imagination with which you perceive this world and the gestures with which you honor it" from THE SWAN

Across the wide waters

something comes

floating--a slim

and delicate

ship, filled with white flowers--

and it moves on its miraculous muscles

as though bringing such gifts

to the dry shore

was a happiness

almost beyond bearing.

And now it turns it dark eyes,

it rearranges

the cloud of its wings,

it trails

an elaborate webbed foot,

the color of charcoal.

Soon it will be here.

Oh, what shall I do

when that poppy-colored beak

rests in my hand?

Said Mrs Blake of the poet:

I miss my husband's company--

he is so often

in paradise.

Of course! the path to heaven

doesn't lie down in flat miles.

It's in the imagination

with which you perceive

the world,

and the gestures

with which you honor it.

Oh, what will I do, what will I say, when those

white wings

touch the shore?