On the second day of Christmas
On the second day of Christmas my True Love gave to me… a poem.
She stepped into the pulpit
And felt at once that feeling.
That connection with both God and congregant
the mediation (or is it meditation)
between the two.
And when she stepped into
that feeling, she was reminded.
Not of her calling, because that
lives with her each and every day.
But of her gift.
And when she was reminded,
she remembered. Each leg and arm
and finger and toe and heart and lung,
all re-membered. They tingled and twisted
and settled in to her.
And once she was re-membered,
she reminded the people of how they
were connected, both through stories and
feelings and experience.
Connected with those before.
And when they were connected
She then felt it anew. Her own
God, the partnership they share and
their co-creating work.