Monday after Pentecost

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Lord, Holy Spirit,
You blow like the wind in a thousand paddocks,
Inside and outside the fences,
You blow where you wish to blow.

Lord, Holy Spirit,
You are the sun who shines on the little plant,
You warm him gently, you give him life,
You raise him up to become a tree with many leaves.

Lord, Holy Spirit,
You are the mother eagle with her young,
Holding them in peace under your feathers.

On the highest mountain you have built your nest,
Above the valley, above the storms of the world,
Where no hunter ever comes.

Lord, Holy Spirit,
You are the bright cloud in whom we hide,
In whom we know already that the battle has been won.

You bring us to our Brother Jesus
To rest our heads upon his shoulder.

Lord, Holy Spirit,
You are the kind fire who does not cease to burn,
Consuming us with flames of love and peace,
Driving us out like sparks to set the world on fire.

Lord, Holy Spirit,
In the love of friends you are building a new house,
Heaven is with us when you are with us.

You are singing your songs in the hearts of the poor
Guide us, wound us, heal us. Bring us to the Father

James K. Baxter, ‘Song to the Holy Spirit’, in Collected Poems 

Oxford University Press, 1979.

         Kyrie

Because we cannot be clever and honest
and are inventors of things more intricate
than the snowflake — Lord have mercy.

Because we are full of pride
in our humility, and because we believe
in our disbelief — Lord have mercy.

Because we will protect ourselves
from ourselves to the point
of destroying ourselves — Lord have mercy.

And because on the slope to perfection,
when we should be half-way up,
we’re half-way down — Lord have mercy.

           Kyrie from R. S. Thomas’ Mass for Hard Times: