Bonus Wednesday- Songs and Poem

 Breathe In, Breathe Out, Let It Go
by Carrie Newcomer

To live we learn what we love most,

Embrace it all and hold it close.

Breathe it in and breathe it out, let it go. 

To live is to love so many things,

Fly on beautiful wax wings.

Breathe it in and breathe it out, let it go. 

 

Breathe it in and breathe it out, let it go.

Breathe it in and breathe it out, let it go, let it go.

Breath in breath out, let it go, let it go. 

 

I held anger like a coal,

Burning hot but did not let go,

With the thought that I could

 throw it at someone.

Such a hard lesson to learn,

My own hand was what got burned.

Breathe it in and breathe it out, Let it go 

 

Breathe it in and breathe it out, let it go.

Breathe it in and breathe it out, let it go, let it go.

Breath in breath out, let it go, let it go.

 

What is won is won,

What is done is done

Let it go

What is real is real,

What we feel we feel

Then let go 

 

I saw one candle in the night,

Become a thousand lights.

Breathe it in and breathe it out, let it go.

Life is fleeting this I know,

Short and draped in marigolds.

Breathe it in and breathe it out, let it go. 

 

Breathe it in and breathe it out, let it go.

Breathe it in and breathe it out, let it go, let it go.

Breath in breath out, let it go, let it go. 

 

Holy As The Day Is Spent





Holy is the dish and drain
The soap and sink, and the cup and plate
And the warm wool socks, and the cold white tile
Shower heads and good dry towels
And frying eggs sound like psalms
With bits of salt measured in my palm
And It's all a part of a sacrament
As holy as a day is spent

Holy is the busy street
And cars that boom with passion's beat
And the check out girl, counting change
And the hands that shook my hands today
And hymns of geese fly overhead
And spread their wings like their parents did
Blessed be the dog who runs in her sleep
To chase some wild and elusive thing

Holy is the familiar room
And the quiet moments in the afternoon
And folding sheets like folding hands
To pray as only laundry can
I'm letting go of all my fear
Like autumn leaves made of earth and air
For the summer came and the summer went
As holy as a day is spent

Holy is the place I stand
To give whatever small good I can
And the empty page, and the open book
Redemption everywhere I look
Unknowingly we slow our pace
In the shade of unexpected grace
And with grateful smiles and sad lament
As holy as a day is spent
And morning light sings 'providence'
As holy as a day is spent

Just a Little Difference

Ah—a resting place,
where we come to understand
it is not required of us
to wrestle constantly and passionately
with our God—
nor pursue relentlessly
all God's decrees as we understand them,
but only that we listen and wonder
and hope and pray,
that we might, perhaps,
make just a little difference,
one quiet grey day. 

Edwina Gateley poem from here.

 From There Was No Path So I Trod One