drama queens

[a song by alumna and adjunct faculty member, Lindsay McKay]:

“Drama Queens”

Eternity is a long time
To hold your breath
To hold your breath

We should know we are speaking from
Experience
Experience

Ah, ah, ah

We’ve bit our tongues for so long that they’re
Scar tissue
scar tissue

You wouldn’t know you didn’t pay us
Attention
Attention

Ah, ah, ah
Ah, ah, ah

We tried to tell you how much
Pain we’re in
Pain we’re in

You shut us down by calling us
Drama queens
Drama queens

Well, these drama queens
Are building our thrones
Out of sticks and stones
And our own broken bones

These drama queens
Are building our thrones
Out of sticks and stone
And our own broken bones

These drama queens
Are building our thrones
Out of sticks and stones
And our own broken bones

Ah, ah, ah

These drama queens
Are building our thrones
Out of sticks and stones
And our own broken bones

celebrating women

(This is inspired by the women in the St. Croix Vineyard communion, circa March 2018.  And, a seed from Emily Dickinson):

I celebrate women’s handiwork,
the stitching and the mending,
turning a collar, hemming up trousers,
stitch by stitch… we speak,
speak through the connections we make,
fold of frayed edges, and pin, to mend.

I celebrate the ones who practice listening:
what powerful speech straining-to-hear is.

I celebrate the women who dig into this earth’s soil,
coaxing robust growth

I celebrate the women who carry water
who stop us in our tracks to say
look, this water, this is life. Take care of it.

I celebrate the women who do not scorn
all the hidden stitching that makes life …life.

I celebrate the women who create aromas …
food is communion.

I celebrate the woman who dared to write the line
“my life had stood – a loaded gun”
oh Emily Dickinson: so unladylike!
Writing from your corner,
lobbing silent and sure implosions
as your keen eye views the world around you;
word by precise word, you speak.

These words and ways:
eloquent
as the wind amongst the trees of our lives.
a solid mass gathering under the transience of talk
this gathering of hand work that plays.

I celebrate the women here,
those hands that tickle the ivories
strum the guitar
gathering us
weaving us into a song:

together as lament, as praise, as glory, as cries.

– Agnes Kramer-Hamstra

 

missing

[here is a poem from SSU ministry student, Jessica Williams; for an audio version and her further reflection on the poem see here]:

MISSING: GOD OUR MOTHER

Mother God,

How did you become another missing Woman?
Lost amongst the multitude of men making meaning for us all.

You are the Substance holding all things together,
and in Your likeness I have been made.

In feminine form,
I embody,
an image of the living God.

(I need to say it again.)

In feminine form,
I embody,
an image of the living God.

(We need to say it again.)

Is it any wonder that Your daughters have lived in exile?
That we are lost and missing too?

But–
some of us,
some of us,
some of us
have noticed.

We ache at Your absence,
our tongues dry
and thirsty
for Your name on our lips.

We are waiting.
We were waiting.
We are waiting no more.

Now, we are searching.
We’ve gathered a team. (We’ll take anyone!)
The more the better for work like this.

With arms linked together
and lanterns lifted high,
we’re walking through the tall dark grass of ancient texts
to find You.

God our Maker,
God our Mother,
God our Father,
God our Friend,

Teach us.

Like children coming of age,
we are starting to see
how much we didn’t see.

Show us.

How You’ve longed to gather us,
our Holy Mother Hen,
and there beneath Your Wings of Love,
to comfort us again.

Feed us.

Like an Eagle or a Mother Bear,
nourish those in need.
And then,
like all Good Mothers. . .

Set us free.

– Jessica Williams

find me

[a poem by SSU ministry student, Jessica Williams]:

Find me in the Darkest Night
wide awake
afraid of flight
praying to the God of Light
to find me.

Find me when my head’s bowed low
turned from Love
and all that glows
when shadowlands have gathered slow
to find me.

Find me in the shame that grips
when ancient roots
arise and trip
eroding paths I thought
were sent to guide me.

Find me where the Thistles Bloom
as Pain and Beauty
together move
holding space, creating room
within my heart
to find You.

It is there I recognize
You’ve been inside
Every Eye
that’s come along
beneath this Sky
to find me.

We will name them
large and small
I am held
within them all
even as I rise and fall
to find You.

Help me then to keep my gaze
on what is here
within this Place.
This is where I know your Grace,
this is where I see your Face,

this is how I find You.

– Jessica Williams

energy in us

[Last weekend we celebrated 21 graduates from SSU. One inspiring moment was Joel Mason singing this song, with Jeremy Barham’s mandolin accompaniment]

Then lights they fill the air, or were they always there?
I finally see it. I finally see it.
And I heard the captain say, I heard the captain say,
“You’re always close to it, so very close to it.”
There’s so much energy in us.

(Cloud Cult) – There’s So Much Energy In Us

Joel and Jeremy play There's Energy in US